


A Different Eddard

by Neel001



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 05:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17318939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neel001/pseuds/Neel001
Summary: "You're right my lord. I have always tried to be an honorable man. But I've realized my error." His face could have been carved from stone at that moment. "Never again will I sacrifice anyone precious to me for honor's sake."





	1. Honor's End

Ch 1 Honors end

The wind moaned as it made its way through the snow capped peaks of the Vale. Eddard had seen winter in the north, and so was not bothered by the nipping of the cold air. The same could not be said for Robert though. "If I'd known I would freeze my balls off, I would've stayed in the Eyrie Ned."he grumbled.

Eddard only snorted as he took in his best friends words. He knew Robert jested, for their journey was of the utmost importance to Jon Arryn, a second father to them both. He was going to meet with the Royces at Runestone, to foster good relations. They were accompanying Lord Arryn as it was only proper. They had been his wards for many years now. Though Robert was anything but responsible,even he held great affection for Jon, and would do anything not to let him down.

Their retinue was journeying through a particularly treacherous stretch of mountains, where there was no road but a dirt track. The ridge was wide enough, so there was no danger of falling to death. What made these mountains treacherous was the frequent presence of the mountain clans. The savages would attack any party that looked like easy prey. There was no danger for a retinue their size, but there was no harm in being cautious.

"There you go again Ned, all brooding and serious. Tell me what are you thinking now?" asked Robert in an exasperated tone. "Nothing much" replied Ned. Robert opened his mouth to pry, but he was cut of by Jon. "Let him be Robert. At least one of you has the sense to keep quiet when there's no need to speak." Jon's tone was long suffering but his eyes held amusement. As they were speaking they heard the steady beats of running footfalls. They were at the head of the retinue, and were the first to see the source. It was a scout dressed in blue Arryn livery. He ran to Lord Arryn and spoke in gasps. "My lord! Clansmen- ambush- we must" the man's frantic warning was cut of as he collapsed. Only now could they see the cavernous wound on his back, which had sealed his fate.

Jon took a moment to mentally thank the man for his warning and sacrifice. Then he wheeled his horse, going from affectionate foster father to battlefield commander in one motion. "TO ARMS!" he shouted. His retinue responded quickly with shouts of their own, most of them used to the threat of ambush in the mountains. Ned and Robert drew their weapons as well, Ned his deadly longsword and Robert his terrifying hammer. Being scions of great houses, both been trained since childhood to be excellent warriors.

"Finally!" yelled Robert. "Let's warm up this miserable trip!" Though Ned frowned disapprovingly at his friend's battle lust, it did seem to raise the morale of their knights. Their trainer and the apprentice master and arms at the Eyrie, Ser Harold, stood with them. The knights formed a defensive formation as they had been trained. Their crescent formation , with Lord Arryn and his wards in the middle, was completed not a moment too soon.

They had reached a small dip in the surrounded by foothills when they stopped. From the direction the scout had come from, the clansmen emerged, yelling guttural war cries. They ran at the retinue confident in they're superior numbers. While the retinue had a decent sized guard of 10 knights, and 2 score men at arms, the clansman numbers were far greater. There were at least a hundred emerging from the woods. The Arryn men's one saving grace would be their steel weapons and castle training, just as it had been in ages past in battles between the Andals and the mountain clans.

Ned prepared himself for battle. Neither he nor Robert were greenhorns anymore, they had both been in the chaos of battle. Robert reveled in it, while Ned was disgusted by it. Ser Harold spoke up beside them. " Don't fuck around with this cunts them quick and move on got it?" The two teens nodded. The first wave of clansmen had reached them.

They fell upon the battle line like an avalanche. A huge man, with a two handed ax swung viciously at Ned. Ned evaded the wild sing by ducking low. In the same motion he stabbed his sword upwards, pushing it through the leathers the man wore and into his gut. The blood spray was partially contained by the leathers. Ned yanked his sword free and fought his way to Robert..

He saw Robert ferociously trading blows with 3 of the clansmen, laughing uproariously. His hammer whirled in great arcs, and he moved with an agility that belied his size. Soon one was struck by the back of the hammer in his ribs and collapsed in a bundle of pain. The hammer whirled back again, using the blow as a springboard to smash in the other direction. The deadly spikes on the hammer caught the second mountain man in the head, showering brain matter and gore everywhere. In the meantime the third attempted to catch Robert off balance. He was dispatched by Ser Harold with a quick, efficient slash to the throat.

The rest of the retinue was also faring well. For every Arryn man that fell, at least five clansmen died. The clansmen became more desperate than ferocious, and it was clear they did not have the weapons or skill to defeat a great lord's party. Their numbers soon dwindled to half of the original. Most began fleeing the disastrous battle. Eddard cut down yet another clansmen, and one of them came before him and dropped his weapons.

"I surrender!" he shouted, his eyes wide. Eddard was an honorable man through and through. His enemy had surrendered so he slowly lowered his weapon and let down his guard. "Eddard no!" shouted Harold. He ran to Eddard and pushed him aside as the clansmen drew a dagger and attempted to stab his throat. Harold was shorter than Eddard,and took the strike to his eye, killing him instantly. "Harrold!" shouted Eddard. His hands seemed to act on their own as the longsword rose and decapitated the enemy.

Most of the enemy were fled. The knights and men at arms began reorganizing the retinue and seeing to the dead and wounded. Jon and Robert approached Ned who was kneeling beside the corpse of Ser Harold.

"Ned we must continue onward. There could be more in the surrounding hills." Said Jon gently, knowing now was not the time to speak of what happened. Robert put a hand on his friend's shoulder and said nothing. He had lost his parents, had seen them sink from the top of Storm's End. He understood his friends pain.

Eddard shuddered and rose from his position by Harrold's side. Silently he turned and remounted his horse. "Let's get out of this godsforsaken place." The party was ready to move again and they continued onward to Runestone.

They reached the seat of House Royce without event after that. Once they were settled in Runestone, lord Royce listened to their tale sympathetically. He too had lost good men to such ambushes. It was one of the harsh realities of the Vale. "Don't let Ser Harold's sacrifice be in vain Eddard." he said after the tale was finished. "Honor has its place, but the people you hold dear are more important than that."

Eddard knew it to be true. He had in fact been wallowing in self-recrimination the whole way to Runestone. He knew it was his fault Ser Harold had died. Jon and Robert had been kind enough not to say it, but he knew they thought it. Hearing Lord Royce's words stirred something within him. "You're right my lord. I have always tried to be an honorable man. But I've realized my error." His face could have been carved from stone at that moment. "Never again will I sacrifice anyone precious to me for honor's sake."

"Well said Ned, well said." Jon approvingly stated. This was a defining moment for the young man. "Enough of this depressing talk!" bellowed Robert. "Let us feast." he continued in his usual fashion. The lords and household knights all gave a cheer of agreement and began to tear into their food. Even Ned smiled a bit. Robert's antics always cheered him up. Little did he know that his vow that day would change the fate of the seven kingdoms.


	2. The Vale Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vale starts the rebellion.

Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire or its characters. They are the sole property of GRRM.

Dark wings dark words. The phrase was actually ridiculous because most messages over long distances were sent by ravens, from harvest amounts to marriage offers. However, Jon Arryn could not help but feel dread as the raven glided towards the maester's tower. The situation of the kingdoms had been growing tense. After the tourney at Harrenhal, all the lords of the realm were on edge. There were numerous reports of the King's erratic behavior, and discontent was spreading.

He could not ignore the feeling any longer. Turning from the balcony he stood upon, he made his way to the maester's tower. He opened the door to the rookery just as the maester was taking the message from the raven.

"My Lord? There was no need for you to go to the trouble of coming here. I was just about to bring you this message. Its from King's Landing." said the maester. Jon breathed in sharply, his suspicion all but confirmed. "A message from the king I see. It bears the royal seal." he said outwardly, not showing his anxiety. A lord had to be strong.

As he began to read, he could not control his countenance however. "Lord Stark and his son traitors? Both dead?" he thought as his mind whirled with the implications. "He asks me to send my wards for "a fair trial?"". He scoffed at this, for the rumors of Aerys's trials and courts had reached the Eyrie. "They'll be condemned to death." he thought. His two choices were before him, clear as the sky above the mountains. He could do his duty to the people of the Vale and as Lord Paramount, and send his wards to King's Landing,keeping his lands out of war. Or he could defy the crown, and do what was right. Nodding to himself, he realized there was only one course of action.

"Maester." "Yes Lord Arryn?" "Call the banners." so saying, Jon left the stunned Maester behind with the letter, and went to call his household. He had a war to prepare for.

Eddard had been reading a book when he received the summons. Ever since Harrold's death there had been a fire in him, a drive to improve. He knew that it was not just his rigid sense of honor that needed to change. He had been complacent, content in his minor role as a second son. No longer. He had decided to learn as much as he could to help his brother rule, and make the North a better place. Knowing his brother Brandon, there would be plenty for Eddard to do.

His newfound sense of responsibility was a source of both pride and weariness for Jon. While Jon was glad that Eddard had begun to learn things that would only help him, he was worried that Harrold's death was consuming Eddard. He had spoken to the young man, and made sure he understood that exhausting oneself never did anyone any good. Robert was a good influence for once, and made sure that Eddard laughed and did enjoyable things as well.

The servant informed Eddard to be in the throne room as early as possible. Eddard nodded and rose started towards the throne room., leaving the book on proper taxation of a populace on the shelf. It did not take him very long, as the throne room was in the central part of the castle, accessible from everywhere. As he walked in, he could not help but marvel once again at the beauty of the Arryn throne room. The room was dominated by the large falcon throne. Eddard was reminded of his family seat in Winterfell, the great throne of weirwood where the Starks had sat for thousands of years. The falcon's perch created a similar sense of majesty, if a more refined one. Jon was sitting upon the throne, looking every inch the Lord of the Vale. Eddard took his place standing near the throne, while the various important men of the household assembled. Robert was also there. He had clearly come from training,his favorite activity. He was still a little red in the face and breathing hard.

"The House of Arryn is assembled my lord." said the steward. Jon looked over his people. They could tell something important was happening, as they had not been called together like this for some time.

Taking a deep breath, Jon began to speak. "Today I received a raven from the king. He commands that I surrender our beloved wards to his cruel tendencies. He has denounced Lord Stark and his heir as traitors and had them executed in a most gruesome fashion. He has begun to burn people alive!" Jon's voice rose in volume and power. "He dares to ask us to give up our own? For Eddard and Robert have become one of us. I say no. We will not give up these two boys whom I promised protection. The seven should curse us for such an offense. Aerys Targaryen has crossed all limits of sin! He is no longer fit to rule over an honorable country like the Vale. For the sake of our wards, for the sake of the seven, for our sacred honor! The Eyrie will rise against the twisted rule of Aerys Targaryen. The Vale will rise with it. I have called the banners. Now I ask of you my loyal household. Will you rise? Will you defend your wards? Will you uphold the honor of Arryn, and fight for me under the light of the seven?"

"YES! AS HIGH AS HONOR" came the shouts. Jon's speech had been masterful. Calling upon their duty, not only to their lord, but also to the seven and to the Vale, he had given them a great cause to fight for, one that justified rebellion. The shouts and cheers continued as the household began to make ready for war.

Eddard did not join in the cheers. He felt numb. Dimly he realized that after the speech Jon and Robert had taken him to the adjoining solar and had begun to discuss what happened. "Ned I'm sorry that you had to find out in my speech, but I had to rally them as quickly as possible." Ned just shook his head, not comprehending the situation. How could his father and brother be executed? They were great lords. There were systems in place for trials and justice. How could the king do this? "What were they even doing there?" asked Eddard, his voice strained. By the intensifying of the frown on Jon's face, it was worse than he thought. "Brandon discovered your sister has been kidnapped by the crown prince. He rushed to King's Landing to demand justice." "That was just like Brandon." thought Eddard. "WHAT!" shouted Robert. "That-that Targaryen scum kidnapped my betrothed?" he exclaimed. His face turned dark. "I'm going to water the Red Keep with that fuckers blood!"

Eddard was reeling. Not only were father and brother dead, but his sister was also missing. Kidnapped. Eddard was not like Robert, and his anger did not crackle and burn like the lightning of the stormlands. He was winter. Taking a deep breath, he put aside the grief, the unbearable emptiness, and allowed his cold rage to grow. He would not declare anything like Robert. He did not need to. His way was the inexorable march of winter, sweeping from the north and withering away all in its path. Aerys Targaryen would pay.

Seeing the faces of his two wards set in their own ways of determination Jon nodded. He would help Eddard through his grief when there was time. For now though, he bade them to go to the training grounds and sharpen themselves. Then he decided to join them in their training as war did not exclude anyone, from the highest lord to the lowest levies.

It had been about a few weeks since Lord Arryn had called the banners. Much had transpired. Most of the Vale stood loyally with the Eyrie. Gulltown, however stood with the Targaryens. House Grafton was stubborn and had sealed Gulltown. Eddard had gone North through the bite to raise his banners. Robert and Jon remained. They had raised most of the loyal strength of the Vale and had marched to Gulltown.

They were outside the city in a command tent, devising their battle plan. The full strength of the vale cam to somewhere around 30000 men. House Grafton and its vassals commanded a little less than third of those, being the rulers of the largest settlement in the vale. The forces loyal to Jon should have outnumbered Gulltown comfortably. However, it took time for them to assemble, and Jon had sent 10000 men to fortify the passes into the Vale so they would not be taken from behind.

This left them with about 6500 men to put down the Graftons. The Graftons too could not assemble all their forces so quickly, and had only 5000 swords to defend the city. It would be a close battle, and Jon hoped his years of experience would allow him to outmaneuver the enemy. Gulltown was a harbor town, and as such could not be besieged. The Eyrie had no navy to blockade the sea. They needed a decisive engagement that could end the threat so the Vale could be united against the crown.

Robert too was staring intensely at the map of the battlefield. He was impulsive, but had a savage brilliance when it came to engagements like this. "I have it!" he shouted. "See here Jon. Our scouts report that the greenest levies of Grafton are on their eastern wall. This is likely a trap, as the more experienced veterans will fall upon us as we attack them." "How do you propose we avoid this trap then?" asked Jon, sensing Robert was going somewhere. "We don't." Robert replied. "I will personally lead the assault on that section, in as loud a manner as possible. Our most experienced knights will tie them down there. Then lord Royce here will lead another assault on the men gate. They will realize our gambit and split their forces between the two assaults. This is when you will take the rest of our forces and take the Northwestern section of the wall and go into the city with fresh knights, and crush their defiance once and for all." All the lords began nodding in assent.

Jon could see it was a solid third assault would not be expected. However, splitting their force up so much was dangerous. Robert's ferocity would have to hold the eastern section until help would arrive. He looked at Robert and nodded. He had faith in him. "We will follow Lord Robert's battle strategy. May the seven bless us and grant us victory" he said. With that they began to prepare the assault.

_Scene_Break_

Marq Grafton looked out over the assembled forces bearing the falcon banner. He had never imagined he would be in the position he was in now. The lord Arryn had risen against the Targaryen dynasty and thrown the realm into chaos. He seethed at the thought. The defiance of the Eyrie was an affront to its very words. Where was the honor in denying the rightful king, no matter how much you disagreed with his commands? He would never stand with such traitors. The ramparts of the Gulltown walls were quite wide, allowing most of the defenders to be on the walls ready to fight. He looked at his host, confident in his walls and his plan. The rebels would attack the weak spot and would be subsequently destroyed by the planned reinforcements, led by him personally. As he squinted at the enemy army, he saw that they were beginning to move towards the eastern wall. Good. They would be destroyed like the scum they were. Turning to his men he shouted. "The traitors are coming to mount our heads on pikes and sack our city! I say let them come! We'll throw those fuckers from the walls and we will uphold the will of the crown! A loud cheer rose from the defenders, taunting the slowly moving assault.

Robert seethed at the jeers that came down the walls. He preferred to fight at the head of the army, in the thick of the action. "Raise shields!" he called out when they were within archer range. The expected arrow storm dropped like a deadly hale upon the army. The wide shields chosen for this type of assault held however, and few men fell under the rain of steel.

They reached the walls at last and began climbing using hooks and siege ladders. Robert had been allotted 1200 men to carry out his assault. He was the first over the walls, smashing through the ranks of inexperienced troops like the hammer he wielded. In the first minute he had cleared enough space for his men to establish a foothold on the walls. Once the foothold was established they had most of their men on the wall with the siege ladders behind them. The Grafton men fell back before them. It seemed they were on the brink of pushing into the city. However, just as the green troops broke and ran, a wall of shields appeared as if my magic. This was a powerful shield wall made of experienced troops. Just as quickly as the Grafton men had been routed, the Arryn men were pushed back, unable to fight against a shield wall on the now cramped ramparts. They began running back to the ladders, trying to escape the walls of death closing in from both sides. Marq Grafton was behind the first line of shield wall directing the troops. His face showed satisfaction as he crushed the assault.

Robert snarled as he saw his men retreating. "Cowards!" he yelled. He rushed back to the walls and used his hammer to smash the siege ladders and ropes off the wall. The men looked at him, aghast. "He just trapped us here!" was the thought running through all their heads. Robert turned to the men and bellowed. "There! Now we have no escape. Either we die as heroes, or live as conquerors. Men of Arryn! There is no use in being anything else. TO ME! With this hammer I will show you how to conquer your fear!" So saying, he ran directly at the part of the surrounding shield wall where Grafton was. When he got close he threw his hammer forward with tremendous force. It smashed into a shield and broke the arm of the man behind it. Robert was there an instant later, and smashed the man in the face even as he cried out in pain. The force of the blow knocked him to the floor. The men beside him in the shield wall tried to turn but they were too late. Robert had picked up his hammer and was whirling it left and right, smashing through shields and men alike. Seeing their lord fighting with such fury once again raised the morale of the assaulting troops. They too followed through the gap and soon the battle was in the balance once again.

Marq Grafton saw this and knew he had to end Robert or they would be routed. He rushed forward to challenge him, drawing his sword. Robert saw him coming and roared, a primal war cry with no sense,only raw emotion. They traded blows back and forth, neither landing a hit. Marq was a formidable warrior, but he lacked the sheer passion Robert brought to the battle. He managed to score a cut on Roberts arm, but soon found himself on the defensive again.

Just as Marq began to tire, he heard the distress signals from the western side of the walls. "How can this be!" he thought. "Where is this third assault coming from?" His momentary preoccupation with the overall battle situation was all Robert needed. In two quick motions, his sword was knocked from his hands and he was kicked to the ground. Robert stood over him like a demon from the seven hells. Then the hammer came down and he knew no more.

Robert looked up from his victory over Grafton and saw that the Gulltown forces were surrendering en masse. The third assault by Jon, as well as the death of their commander had been too much. Lord Royce had taken the main gate and was leading the troops into the city. The day was won.

"Now to rally the stormlands." he thought.

Jon's section of the wall was far less violent. Lyn Corbray had done an admirable job of marshaling what few men were there, but it was of no use. He had surrendered in time to save many of his men. For his courage and good judgement, Jon decided to knight the man, and won him over to his side. Gulltown had fallen. Now was where the hard journey truly began.


	3. The Banners of the North

Ch3

Banners of the North

Eddard took in a breath and stopped his horse as his eyes fell upon the ancient citadel. Winterfell was magnificent as always, its many towers and keeps soaring into the sky. The castle built by Brandon the Builder and the Giants had stood for eight thousands years, withstanding all efforts of the ages to wear it away. Eddard hoped he would not be the Stark to bring it to ruin.

He and his small party of guards approached the great gates of Winterfell. Grey cloaked men signaled from atop the walls, and the gates swung open. Eddard saw that the last remaining member of his family, Benjen, was there to receive him. The poor boy could not quiet contain the relief on his face when he saw his elder brother. "He was even less ready for all this than me." Eddard thought sadly. The maester, Luwin he assumed from the letters, was also present at Benjen's side. When Eddard dismounted and approached Benjen, he and the surrounding people knelt. "Winterfell is yours,brother." intoned Benjen in a solemn fashion.

Eddard felt felt a stab of grief for his brother. "Get up Ben, we're brothers for gods' sakes." so saying, Eddard pulled his brother up and embraced him. Benjen seemed crack against him, almost beginning to sob. At the last moment he pulled himself together, and pulled back. "Lets go to fath- your solar. We can discuss further there. Maester Luwin, please join us after a few minutes." "Of course my lords" replied Luwin, and shuffled away to his work. The servants also went back to their tasks. After all there was a war to prepare for.

_break_Break_

The solar was the same as always. The stacks of reports and documents were organized neatly, while a hearth was set on one wall. It was much less formal than other lord's solars, more of a private place of work. It seemed almost untouched. If Eddard shut out reality for a few moments, he could almost imagine his father sitting at his chair, hear his firm yet caring voice.

He shook himself. Now was not the time to reminisce. Not until his family and country were safe. "You've done well Benjen. The solar looks organized." he said aloud. "I did my best."replied Benjen in a dull tone. Eddard looked at his brother. "I mean it Ben. You held Winterfell and called the lords of the North together while I was gone. They will arrive any day now and we can march without delay." Benjen sighed. "Ned I have to tell you. It's my fault. My fault that Lyanna is gone. My fault the Brandon and Father are dead." As he spoke. Benjen shivered with cold even if the solar was quite warm. Eddard went still at his words. "What do you speak of?" he asked. "Lyanna met with the prince. He came here, to Winterfell, in secret." said Benjen. "I knew they were going to meet in the woods. I knew. Still I told no one because Lyanna made me promise." At this Benjen let out a choked laugh. "You know how she was. She threatened to brain me with an ax if I told father. If I had told someone, none of this would have happened."

Eddard sat in his father's chair, staring at the hearth. Abruptly he rose and cuffed Benjen on the head. "Ned!" cried Benjen in surprise. "You fool." said Eddard. " How can you blame yourself? The King was already insane, and things spiraled out of control. Lyanna was always willful. I doubt much would have changed by you alerting someone. The prince would have tricked her anyway. She would not have willingly left, not without at least telling us. What's done is done, and you're no more at fault then I am. We brothers must stay together, especially now."

"The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."said Benjen. They both smiled a bit at the saying, a remnant of their father and ancestors from the distant past. In the harsh winters of the North, it echoed through the ages, always proving to be true in times of trouble. "I'm going to find her Benjen. I'm going to find her and bring winter upon the dragons." he said "I'll have to get Ice back from King's Landing." "Actually, Father didn't take Ice with him. He left it here with me because he didn't trust the south and wanted it kept out of the wrong hands." Eddard felt marginally better. At least the family sword would be on hand, to better rally the more quarrelsome lords. "Call the maester. It is time we raised the North." With that, both brothers locked away their feelings once more and hardened themselves in preparation for the future.

_Break_Break_

The throne room of Winterfell was packed with people. They had come from all over the North, representing all the houses the North could muster. From prominent houses like Bolton and Umber to comparatively minor ones such as Forrester and Cerwyn. The lords were taking the time to bicker with their long standing rivals. After the last few arrived in the hall Eddard rose. The hall slowly quieted.

"You have done well my lords to answer the call of your liege. Due to the treachery of the Dragons, I am your liege. Lord Rickard's charred corpse lies somewhere in the red keep,and my brother Brandon lies strangled to death. Lady Lyanna has been taken. The North is offended to the highest degree. The dragons think they can do whatever they want without consequence? I say we give them a taste of Northern Steel. We will march south and show them the meaning of the words Winter is Coming!" Most of the lords roared in approval. However, more than a few had remained silent, evaluating their new liege.

"Aye the North has been wronged. But why should we follow you boy?" questioned Mors Umber. "You've been in the south all these years and you're a second son. How can you lead like a true Stark? I say we march south, but you stay here and we'll take care of the fighting." At this bold defiance, many began nodding. Jeor Mormont, ever the loyal man, opened his mouth to rebuke the quarrelsome Umber, but Eddard beat him to it.

"Why should you follow me? Is that the worth of your oath Mors Umber? I am the Stark in Winterfell now. Your ancestors, all of your ancestors, swore allegiance to the throne of winter, which is now rightfully mine. My family is dead except for myself and Benjen and you tell me to stay home? You owe me the loyalty owed to the Starks of Winterfell. I may be young but I will brook no rebellion from my own lords." As he spoke he rose and walked towards Umber. Suddenly he drew Ice and held it at Mors Umbers throat. This drew cries of shock from most of the audience. Some reached for their own weapons instinctively. "Know your place Umber, or I'll have to remind you." Eddard held Ice a little closer and a thin line of blood appeared at Mors' neck. Eddard looked over the other lords. "Does anyone else have a problem following me south?"

Quickly all the lords began to assure him that he had their loyalty. Eddard looked back at Umber. He laughed loudly and stepped back. "I was wrong about you boy. You have ice in your veins. You'll make a fine successor for Rickard." Knowing that was the best he was going to get from the informal Umbers, Eddard sheathed Ice and smiled. "Well then Lord Umber, it's time we marched south."

Riverrun

Robert had gone south to rally his homeland. He had crushed a few of his own rebellious lords, and was a few days away from Ashford. Eddard smiled as he read the letter. The rebellion was progressing far better than expected. The army of the North had entered the riverlands, and had joined up with the vale forces. They were now approaching Riverrun with a smaller party to negotiate, leaving the bulk of their army behind in the camp.

Hoster Tully's daughter had been betrothed to Brandon, and he was an old friend of Jon's. While a little ambitious he was not a bad sort, and they trusted him to negotiate with them. The hope was that he would add the strength of the riverlands, a formidle number of swords, to the rebellion.

"Don't worry Ned. When Hoster joins us, we will have the strength of four kingdoms with us. The royalists will have a hard time standing against us then." reassured Jon. They had arrived at the triangular castle. It was a beautiful sight, the sandstone walls rising out of the vegetation surrounding pristine rivers. They could see that Lord Tully had called his banners as well, based on the amount of activity in and around the castle. "Who seeks to enter Riverrun, seat of house Tully?" said a guard in a formal tone. "Lords Stark and Arryn seek audience with the Lord Tully." replied Jon with equal formality. They were ushered inside to the main keep of the castle. "Lord Tully will see you in his Solar." said the guard who had led them inside. As they opened the door, they saw Lord Tully seated at his desk frowning at a map. His brother, Brynden, was also present.

"Welcome my Lords. I hope you do not mind the informal setting. I would rather negotiate in private instead of in public court." Jon and Eddard inclined their heads to show they understood. "You know why we are here Lord Tully." stated Eddard. "Ah yes, straight to the point with you Starks isn't it? Yes I do know you are here to ask my aid in your rebellion." Lord Tully replied. The Blackfish, who had continued studying the map until now looked up. "I have served with you in the ninepenny wars Lord Arryn. I know you to be a man of honor. So why would one such as you rise in rebellion? I would hear the full truth." Jon proceeded to recount the events of the previous months. "It is as we thought brother. The Targaryens have overstepped. We must rise against their tyranny!" said the Blackfish. Lord Tully raised a hand, stopping his brother's outburst. "Remember our words brother. "Family, Duty, Honor." We must do what is right for house Tully and the riverlands. I have no intention of wasting our men's lives for a cause that is not their own." Sensing that Hoster had a point, Jon asked "What will make our cause yours Lord Tully?" Evidently Lord Tully had given this some thought.

"Before he died, my beloved daughter was betrothed to Brandon Stark. It is my wish that houses Stark and Tully be united through marriage." Eddard was a little shocked. "She and Brandon were betrothed for a while. Would she not object to a betrothal so soon?" "Truthfully my daughter was not in love with Brandon, as they did not actually spend much time together. I believe she would be agreeable to such a marriage." "It would be the best way to unite the riverlands to our forces." said Jon. Eddard knew that it was the best way forward. The alliance had been planned anyway, and he needed a wife, as much as he disliked the way marriages were arranged. "I am agreeable Lord Tully. I will take your daughter as my bride." "Excellent." replied Lord Tully. "We will have a wedding ceremony here in Riverrun. Then I shall march with you to the south, to topple the Targaryens once and for all."

The ceremony had been comparatively small, but Catelyn did not seem to mind. They got along well enough, but real trust and affection would take time between them. Eddard's thoughts turned back to the war. Robert had been defeated by Randyll Tarly and injured. He was currently hiding in the Stoney Sept. They had received a missive asking for reinforcements. The stormlanders were on their way to meet their combined host, one of the largest alliances in Westerosi history.

Aerys had sent Jon Connington to with a large army to the Stoney Sept. They had swarmed over the small town and were searching everywhere for Robert. The townsfolk were assisting him however, and he had thus far evaded them. Eddard, Jon, and the Blackfish were planning the assault of the town. Other important lords were also present. "We have the advantage in numbers. If we launch a devastating first strike we can take the walls and gain the initiative." suggested Jon. This seemed the most sensible plan, as the Stoney Sept did not have very high walls, and once taken, the battle would be far easier. "That still leaves them an escape route." Eddard said coldly. "Once they see that our strength is greater, they will retreat, and the army will be free to join other royalists armies and come back. I propose we station our cavalry outside the town. They will ride down the fleeing royalists, while we close all exits save the ones leading into the waiting swords of our cavalry." Jon frowned at the thought of riding down fleeing enemies. Before he could object, many of the northmen began agreeing. He could see that the Blackfish too was convinced of the ruthless plan. "Very well" . He turned to Ser Brynden. "Ser I trust that once we have entered the town you can marshal our forces?" Famed for his tactics in skirmish warfare, the cramped city streets would be the perfect battleground for the Blackfish. "With pleasure my Lord."

Their plan formed they began to ready the assault on the town. It was decided that a force of Vale knights would stay outside the town to prevent the retreat of any royalists. The rest of the forces would assault from the east and overwhelm the defenses.

Eddard looked up at the walls of the Stoney Sept. Today he was going to participate in the total annihilation of thousands of men. He knew it was his idea of the emergency cavalry that would be the deciding factor. He thought back to Ser Harrold's death and whispered "Never again." As the war-horns sounded he charged forward with his army. He heard the bells tolling, warning the citizens to stay inside. The battle of the Stoney Sept had begun.


	4. A Battle of Bells

Ch 4 Victory

Jon Connington frowned as he looked over the town. The sun was just starting its descent for the day, and the sky as bright and clear. The search for Robert should have been a simple one. With his large army, they should have been able to easily find the rebellious stormlord. Yet all they had accomplished was turning the townspeople even more against them. They were hiding Robert, he was sure of it, but there was no way to pin him down. He turned and looked beyond the city walls. He could see the rebel armies massing to strike."When did it go so wrong?" he thought to himself. "Jon Connington, youngest hand of the king! What a farce." When Aerys appointed he thought himself honored. Now, Rhaegar was nowhere to be found, the rebels were massing, and he still had nothing to show the king. He briefly toyed with the idea of tearing off his hand chain and tossing it away. Yet he could not. Rhaegar, wherever he was, needed him. For the prince,he would fight. "Lord Hand it has begun." stated his guardsmen. Sure enough, the armies outside were beginning their assault.

Then the brutal fighting would begin in the cramped spaces of the town. The streets would run red with blood, he knew. Yet he believed he could scratch out a narrow victory, and otherwise could retreat. The rebels did not have the forces to completely surround the town, which was a small mercy. In the distance there rose a savage war cry. Connington saw the northern lords storming the wall. The bells began to toll warning the citizens to stay inside. "So it begins," he thought. He fastened his sword to his waist, and went to rally his men.

Eddard and his winterfell men at arms were some of the first over the rather short walls. As soon as they made headway on the wall, the defenders began to converge upon their location. Everywhere he could see nothing but the three headed dragon, snarling, moving in. "Let them come" he thought. "FIRE AND BLOOD!" came the shouts as the chaos increased. Eddard responded with his own shout. "WINTERFELL" he cried as he swung Ice. The 6 foot long greatsword sliced through swaths of the loyalists, its valyrian steel make allowing it to maneuver freely through men and light armor. The sun glinted off the clashing steel and the ringing of swords and bells mixed in a terrible cacophony. Beside him, his men echoed his shouts. Blood began to flow in streams over the walls as more and more Northmen climbed over them. The loyalist captain could see that the wall was no longer defensible. "Fall back!" he ordered. The men at arms fell back through stairways, back to the streets where they had set up defensive choke points.

A great cheer rose from the Northmen. Eddard looked left and right. He could see that the armies of the vale and riverlands had also breached the walls and were about to take to the streets. Eddard felt some satisfaction. Things were going according to plan, but they needed to defeat the enemy before they got to Robert.

The assault on the walls had smashed through the loyalist levies. The dragon forces had retreated into the streets,and the rebels were on the walls. There was a strange lull in the battle. "Numbers won't mean shit there." thought Brynden Tully. The narrow streets and spaces of the town would thoroughly negate their larger numbers. They might still win,but the price would be heavy. Brynden had used much the same tactics in the past. He could see the defensive points and the shield walls guarding roads. The thickets of spears made things quite difficult. Good thing he knew how to beat that little trick as well. He grinned. "Sound the horn."

His men began sounding the special call. The next instant, thousands of deadly arrows raced through the air. The Targaryen men had shields, and they put them to good use, blocking most of the arrows as they came. They could not block them all though. Even if only one in twenty arrows hit, men fell by the hundreds. The enemy archers began to fire back, but they could not hit as accurately as the rebels were atop the walls. As the enemy wall began to weaken, Brynden ordered the second part of his plan into action. Again the horns sounded, and all over the city battering rams were brought forward, with contingents of soldiers protecting them.

They smashed into the already weakened defenders with tremendous force. The soldiers protecting the rams began a ferocious assault on any loyalists near them. Brynden could see it all from his position. The formations of the enemy were broken, and it was now open warfare. His more organized troops would break the loyalists."All that's left is to join the fun." He drew his sword and charged, as the bells tolled with renewed vigor, signalling the resumption of the battle.

"Lord Hand they've broken past the defensive points! We can't stop them!" yelled the desperate scout, reporting back from the front line. "This cannot continue. It's time I put down this rebel scum myself." Jon drew his sword. "With me. We will break their assault in one strike!" Shouting, his men followed him. The griffin banner flew proudly with the wind. As it happened, the nearest attackers were the forces under Jon Arryn. Connington and his strongest warriors barreled through the streets, slaughtering the Arryn men. Ironically, the scene mirrored battles past, where the griffin king had butchered his way through andal armies. Jon saw this and moved to intercept the enemy commander. The eagle and the griffin banners drew closer and closer until the two commanders were face to face in one of the town's squares.

Jon saw the snarling lord of griffin's roost charging at him. He simply set his jaw in response, readying his weapons. As their household knights fought around them, Connington reached Jon and swung his longsword in an overhand blow. Deflecting it of his shield, Jon quickly stepped forward and side swiped. Connington was an experienced warrior however, and had already pivoted out of the way. He turned around the deflected strike into a thrust from Jon's left. The sword was narrowly parried by Jon's own. There battle continued this way, developing into a fierce contest of skill. Jon's more precise and graceful motions were countered by Connington brute force and dexterity. It seemed both fighters were equal at the moment.

Jon knew it couldn't last. He had already been fighting for a while, and he wasn't a young man. Connington knew it too. Soon, Jon could not pull back a thrust fast enough, and was caught in the way of a strike. His sword was struck out of his hand and Connington struck again, quick as a snake. He barely blocked with his shield,but the force of the blow knocked the shield out of his arm. His retainers tried to come to his aid, but Connington's men were keeping them away. One loyal man got through only to be bashed with Connington's shield and then dispatched by another loyalist soldier. Jon found his back against the wall of one of the buildings surrounding the square. Connington raised his sword to strike.

Eddard was fighting hard in the cramped space. He slashed, ducked, and parried. Cutting down the man in front of him he pivoted and stabbed the one sneaking up on him. Readying Ice once again he charged at the last knot of loyalists on the roof. He cut down one, and kicked another in the stomach, knocking him off the roof. Grabbing another's sword hand he wrenched and cut open his guts, spilling the mans innards. The foul smell of dying men hit him anew. The last few men saw him crushing them, and targeted him. Just as one of their blades swung towards his throat, his arm was sliced off. The next instant the man was lying decapitated.

"Fucking assholes." swore Gregor Forrester as he lowered his sword.. He was one of the men attached to Eddard. The loyalists had hidden in the houses and even on the roofs to bombard the invading army, and a large force of Northmen were fighting their way into the buildings and onto the roofs. The loyalists were numerous and just kept coming at twice the number when one was cut down. The men were getting frustrated as the enemy would not stop.

"Just a little longer Gregor." said Lord Grover. They were standing on the roof of one of the larger buildings. Howland Reed was silent as ever, his trident dripping with the poison he slathered on it. They looked over the streets. The battle was kind of an organized chaos. The invaders were well organized, giving them the edge. The grey tide was slowly pushing into the town. 'Not fast enough' thought Eddard. He looked towards the center of the town and saw his chance. "My lords, let us travel by rooftop. We can cut ahead of the rest of the force and gain the advantage." "What a plan my lord! We'll be the flying wolves."said Gregor. The men laughed along. "There's no time to waste then," said Howland.

The diminutive but strong man led the charge and jumped to the next rooftops. Eddard followed with the rest of the men, and began fighting his way through the men there. They clearly did not expect this tactic, and fell quickly. The loyalists on the surrounding roofs fell quickly to the unexpected assault. They began to grow wary and were not taken by surprise, but couldn't do more than slow down the ferocious northerners.

Soon they had reached the square where the Arryn banners were in some of the heaviest fighting. Eddard scanned the square. He saw Jon's Eagle standard almost below him. Something glinted in the sunlight. It was Connington, and he was about to strike a defenseless Jon Arryn.

The adrenaline already flooding his body surged even more and he saw red. Acting on instinct he grabbed one of the discarded shields and flung it at Connington. Connington reacted at the last moment and stepped back, having to abandon his strike on Jon. Before the shield had even hit the ground Eddard dived off the roof. He had opted for light armor, so he landed relatively well. Immediately he unleashed a flurry of strikes upon Connington. To his credit, the young hand was quick to recover from his surprise. No matter the ferociousness Eddard wielded, Connington was simply too skilled. Howland Reed was the next man in the square and the rest of the Northmen were quick to follow, scaling down the walls rather than jumping. Howland and the northmen kepth the other griffin men at bay and reinforced the tired Arryn soldiers.

Eddard and Conninton's fight took them around the square and in front of a brothel. Finally Eddard's energy began to falter. Though Connington too was was weary, he seized the opportunity, and managed to knock Eddard down. Once again he could not finish his opponent as at that moment a great bellow rose in the air, louder than the clangs of clashing weapons. "TARGARYEN SCUM!" Robert emerged from the brothel and charged Connington. His bull rush pushed Connington back towards the center of the square. Connington, already tired from fighting two opponents could not sustain a defense against Robert's hammer. He was smashed in the side and he fell, though his armor took the brunt of the blow. "He was in the goddamn brothel." was his last thought before the world turned black.

Robert didn't get a chance to finish his opponent as the loyalist men covered him and began to retreat taking him with them. The rebel forces gave chase, led by the riverlanders, who were the most fresh. Eddard approached Robert sensing that the battle was in their hands now. They both grinned and embraced. "What took you so long Ned?"

"Well there were a few griffins I had to take care of." Jon arrived on the scene and smiled at them.

"Thank you for saving my life Eddard. I am truly grateful."

"I wasn't about to let any more family die." With that they turned towards the troops. There were orders to give and a town to secure.

Denys Arryn lowered the myrish spyglass. He was keeping a watch on the western gate of the town, the most likely escape route for the loyalist army. They had waited since the noon, and now as the sun was close to setting, their patience bore fruit. The loyalist army was retreating in admittedly good order. Connington could be seen in the center, directing the retreat and rearguard forces. The riverlanders were skirmishing the edges of the army. Most of the soldiers looked dead tired, and the morale was sure to be low.

Denys turned to his men. Truthfully he too disliked the tactic he was about to employ, but knew that the large loyalist army retreating to fight again was not an option. Projecting a surety he did not feel he said. "Now is the time friends. This action may seem honorless, but we must do this task. Our lord is relying on us to make sure none of this dragons ever cut down another loyal valeman again. We are ending the threat here and protecting our country. There is no greater honor than that! Sound the charge!.

The knights of the vale proved once again why they were so feared as tons of muscle, bone, and steel barreled towards the retreating Targaryen army. The eagle banner flew high in the wind as the loyalists were butchered by the powerful cavalry. The center tried to put up some sort of defense but it was too late. Denys rode at the front of the wedge and made his way to the Griffin banner. Connington was shouting orders while clutching his wounded side. Denys spurred his horse to go even faster, and couched his lance. It drove through the weakened side of Connington's armor, and finally ended the young hand. The Valemen cheered and the enemy and continued their bloody work. No prisoners were taken.


	5. The Stag and the Dragon

There was a certain feeling when one walked into the throne room. Varys was currently experiencing it. It was the fear an animal felt when entering the layer of a dragon. The throne room had become just that. The king burned all those who offended him, ostensibly for treason only his twisted mind could see. Varys did not want to be the bearer of the news he carried but if he did not tell the king now it was much more dangerous.

Sighing he entered the throne room and presented himself to the king. The iron throne was as twisted as ever, with its thousand swords gleaming slightly. The king sat lounging, his long yellowed fingernails scratching the armrests in a bored sort of way. "Ah Varys, my loyal servant. What whispers have you heard today?" "Your grace I regrettably bear the news of Connington's failure." said Varys, deflecting blame off of himself. "What!" said the king. "I picked that fool as hand so he could find and kill that idiot stormlord. Are you saying he still hasn't found him?" "I'm afraid that Connington is dead and the rebels have slaughtered the army at the stoney sept." The king looked taken aback at this, not comprehending how his army could fail.

"We must crush this rebellion once and for all. Send the Kingsguard to summon the prince and rally the rest of the army." Varys was a little surprised at how rational the king sounded. "And burn that traitor Connington. He does not deserve his post as hand." Varys sighed again to himself. Knowing there was no use in telling the king that the griffin was already dead he simply left with a "yes your grace." Lord Chelstead was named hand and yet another army marched to battle the rebels.

After the meeting in the throne room, Varys made his way to the white sword tower. He took a moment to marvel at it. There were at least a dozen hidden passageways he could use to get in, thanks to the paranoid constructors of the red keep. Those would not be needed today though, as he did not want to startle the kingsguard.

"Lord Varys, welcome. What is your business here today?" said Ser Barristan.

"I bear terrible news. The army that was sent to capture the Baratheon has fact they were almost completely annihilated, with only a few levies escaping into the woods. Less than a 100 I'm told."

Barristan froze, his face pulled taut. "All of. . .?" he whispered.

"Every last one."said Varys solemnly. "The rebels had cavalry waiting to ride down the retreating forces who were in disarray. It was a brutal plan."

"It is the reality of war, yet I am shocked at how bloody this revolt is becoming."

"It is about to become bloodier yet Ser. The king orders the rest of our strength to end the threat once and for all. He commands the kingsguard to summon the prince and rally the armies."

"I will inform the Lord Commander of this. The kingsguard will crush this rebellion."

"Very well Ser Barristan. I wish you good fortune."

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The largest hall that could be founding the stoney sept was packed to the rafters with noblemen. They represented all the factions in the alliance, from the North to the Stormlands. Robert, Eddard, and Jon took their customary spaces at the head of the large central table. Near the, were other lords of import such as Brynden Tully. Clustered near them were the bannermen.

"We have to regroup and look at our options." cautioned Lord Bracken. "The full force of the royalists will soon be upon us."

"Bah! What use is such a cowardly strategy? We must press the attack. Let us destroy the reachermen next!" said Lord Blackwood. The Blackfish put his face in one hand, while the two continued to feud. In fact, most of the room seemed to be split along the same line. The gregarious lord Umber was arguing against the more cautious northern lords. Robert too was trying to convince Jon to press the attack.

Eddard was silent as he contemplated the map. They had received word that Randyll Tarly had followed the victory at Ashford with an attempt to take Storm's end. A curious move, probably on orders from his less competent lord paramount. Mace Tyrell was an ambitious man, yet lacked a certain sense most needed. Young Stannis was holding Storm's End with a minimal garrison, and yet Lord Tyrell set up his entire army there doing practically nothing.

The only other kingdoms that had to be considered were Dorne and the west. Dorne's princess was in the capitol, and Ser Lewyn Martell was part of the kingsguard. Dornish spears would no doubt join the next battle. Tywin Lannister had called his levies and was sitting in the westerlands, remaining neutral so far. It seemed he would not commit himself until he saw a clear winner to the battle.

"This rebellion is reaching its endgame." Eddard said. "The royalists have only the crownlands and the dornish and perhaps a few reachermen. The rest will not join the next battle. If we crush them there, we will have a clear path to the capitol. However, if we move too fast, the enemy may choose to hole up inside King's Landing, leading to a long siege we cannot afford. I propose we advance, but steadily, without haste. The dragons will meet us in the field and we shall overcome them there."

Only the lords near Eddard had heard him as the arguments were still going on. Jon Arryn, the Blackfish, and Robert all agreed with him as did many of the northern lords. Order was called for and the Lords were appraised of the plan. Many of them grumbled, but seemed to be satisfied with the compromise. The set about creating the details of the plan.

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A dark mood had settled over the tower of Joy, contradicting its very name. The Crown Prince read the missive from his father almost carelessly, for he could already guess its contents. The presence of the White Bull and Oswell Whent told him he was being summoned back to quell the rebellion. He sighed. "The things I must do to save my kingdom."he thought. He would most likely have to kill or at least exile his beloved Lyanna's brother when he won this rebellion. He had not told her how badly the war had escalated and did not plan to. She needed to give birth to the prince who was promised, a warrior of ice and fire, and the news would only cause complications.

He knew that she and the his best friend, Arthur, did not quite understand. Yet he had seen what was coming in the ancient tomes and in visions. The apocalypse that was coming needed to be stopped, and westeros needed to be ready. "You two will stay here and guard Lady Lyanna and my unborn heir. I shall go forth and end this threat to the iron throne. The Dornish are sending there forces. I will join them on the way back north."

Gerold Hightower nodded. He never questioned the royal's orders, and followed the, to the end like the loyal knight he was. If the prince wanted him to guard here, he would do it till his last breath. Oswell was a little perturbed however. "My prince how can we leave you to fight alone? While Sers Barristan and Martell may be great warriors, you need more kingsguard with you." "I understand your concern Ser Oswell. However, my lady must be kept safe in this secret location. I will have many dornish lords, and the bulk of the crownlands army with me. I will be fine." Ser Whent still seemed hesitant, but nodded his acquiescence. Arthur sat beside Rhaegar, sharpening dawn. He said nothing, for he had already tried to convince his prince to change course. Rhaegar was not prepared to listen to him anymore. He had become obsessed with some prophecy, and would never back down. Arthur had given up trying to change him long ago.

Rhaegar went back into the tower. Lyanna smiled when she saw him. She was sitting on a chair near the window, the light falling softly on her features. She was just starting to show the signs of pregnancy. "Rhaegar." she said. "What news did the kingsguard bring? I saw them approach."

"I must go away on some business. I'm needed by the king." Lyanna's face grew worried.

"Beloved, there is something you are hiding. Tell me what's really going on in the realm."

Seeing the surprised look on Rhaegar's face, she said, "I'm not a fool Rhaegar. I know you aren't telling me everything. Just tell me and relieve your burden."

Rhaegar was tempted, but he could not reveal everything there. He was the only one who understood. Lyanna was unpredictable and too free a spirit.

"Do not worry Lyanna. You don't need to know all the boring details. Just know that I will be back, and I will make you my queen."

Lyanna scowled and looked out the window. Rhaegar signed, for he knew she would be in a mood for a while. "I will see you when I return. I promise we will have a grand wedding in the sept of kings landing."

"I follow the old gods. Your flowery sept is means nothing to me."

"Please Lyanna I don't want to leave like you just give me until I get back? I will explain everything then."

She still looked unhappy, but did not want to part on bad terms. She had a bad feeling about Rhaegar leaving. "Alright husband. One last kiss before you go to work, improving the kingdoms"

They embraced, but the tension was still there. After preparing his things, Rhaegar left with the lesser crownlands knights, leaving behind the 3 kingsguard. Lyanna watched him go, and her face twisted into a frown. Rhaegar was not the same as he had been before. More withdrawn and always thinking of dusty books instead of the realm or her.

She supposed she could work it out when he came back. She would ask the kingsguard, they would tell her what was going on.

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The sun set upon casterly rock, bathing it in a soft orange glow. The coloring made it resemble a lion in repose, from an appropriate distance. That is, if a lion had millenia of keeps, walls, and turrets upon its back. The hollowed out mountain hall of the lannisters was one of the most formidable fortresses in the land. Virtually unassailable and of gigantic size, it was truly something from the age of heroes.

The lord of this great fortress sat in his solar looking out at the vast lands of his house. His eyes were not focused upon the impressive vista, but rather on the rows of tents that stretched as far as the eye could see. 35000 men, all sworn to fight for the Lannisters of Casterly Rock. He looked back at his desk, where the summons from kings landing sat, along with a report from his trusted maester, Pycelle. The king, his once friend, had once again called him to save the realm from his idiocy. "Twenty years." thought Tywin. "Twenty years I slaved away as his hand, cleaning up Aerys' messes and making westeros prosper. And what did I get? My heir taken from me. My daughter, spurned. No Aerys. Our friendship is long past, and I will aid you no more.

Tywin knew that the rebels were gaining quite a lot of momentum. Yet the royalists still had substantial forces left. Even with the annihilation of Connington;s army, the dragon still had strength. He knew that all he had to do was wait for the two sides to weaken themselves, and then help the stronger one take the throne. The Lannister name would ring out, striking fear into the hearts of lords across the realm.

Twin felt a twinge of regret at his decision. The boy, Robert, was Steffon's son. He remembered Steffon's booming laugh at the japes Aerys would make. He would only smile at the antic of his two friends and comrades in arms. "What would Steffon say if he knew what I was doing today?" wondered Tywin. "What would Joanna say?" Shaking his head, he banished the thoughts from his mind. Those happy times were long gone. The lannister legacy was all that mattered, all that he had. He would see to it that the legacy would last a thousand years.

"Guard." he called."Summon Ser Kevan."

"At once my lord." The guard left to fetch Tywin's most reliable brother.

Kevan was there in only a few minutes. "Yes brother?"

"Give the marching orders. We shall take our army down the gold road and wait outside the crownlands. When the stags and the dragons are done tearing each other apart, we will move in and secure our position."

Kevan nodded and left to make the preparations. The lion was on the move.

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"Let us feast!" cried Mace Tyrell, causing his lords to echo the cheer. They were sitting near Storms End, in full view of the garrison, but outside arrow range. The intention was to blatantly showing off their power to the stormlands peasants behind the walls. Of course the "Fat Flower" would do this through feasting and food. The whole reacher camp looked more like a large festival than a siege. Colorful tents were everywhere, and actual tourneys were taking place. Randyll Tarly sat beside the man he begrudgingly called his lord. This useless siege did not sit well with him. Yet he could not go against his orders, and did his best to maintain the discipline of the men despite the atmosphere of revelry. "Oh lighten up Randyll. There is plenty of food. Enjoy yourself!"

"As you say my lord." he reluctantly picked up his fork to eat, but just then a messenger ran into the camp. He wore Targaryen colors.

"My Lords! Beg your pardon, but the prince is passing through, and commands you to add to his host. He is going to crush the rebels and needs your aid."

"Tell his grace that we are currently besieging this castle. I will send fifteen thousand men along with lord Rowan to help the prince." Tarly almost snarled but restrained himself. The fool was going to make them lose the war! "My lord I must ask you to send more men. I can lead them myself." He said. "Nonsense Randyll." said Mace in a jovial way. "I need you and those men here, to make sure storm's end falls. What I am sending will be enough."

"As you say my Lord." With that the festivities resumed.

A little ways away, upon the battlements of Storms End, Stannis frowned. This was not unusual, as he was always in a our mood, but he was sick of the tyrells. There incessant feasting and celebration just to mock the garrison was grating on his nerves. They had very nearly exhausted their food supplies, and if something were not done soon, they would have to eat rats.

"If only Robert had left a few more men." thought Stannis. "Then again, perhaps this is for the best. Less mouths to feed" His brother, Renly, did not understand quite what was happening. All he knew was hunger, and pain. Stannis looked down to see his fists were clenched. He slowly unclenched them trying to relax his body. He needed to focus. Tarly still sent occasional assaults on the walls. He had lost all belief in the gods when he saw his parents die in a storm just leagues away from Storms End. Yet he was desperate enough to send a quick prayer to the seven, and even to the old gods. "You have hurled difficulties at me all my life, yet I have always done my duty. At least now grant some aid to us, if not for me, then for Renly." With his prayer over with he headed back inside the castle to see to the rations.

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Rhaegar looked over the combined host. He had 20000 Dornishmen, 15000 reachers, and another 20000 crowlanders, mostly from Crackclaw point. He was confident his larger host, and more able commanders and knights would carry the day. He turned his gaze to the maps upon his desk. The rebels were making their way to kings landing, but they were taking their time, securing their grip on the riverlands. He would meet them and shatter them in one blow. He eye fell upon the giant lake known as the god's eye. "Perfect." he thought. The plains around the god's eye would allow him to make full use of his larger army. The rebels with the gods eye on one flank would not be able to maneuver well enough to negate his advantage in numbers. His larger force would distract them, while his knights crushed them against the firmly, he called the commanders of his army to his tent. The war would soon be won, and he could focus on the real threat coming for all of westeros.

"This is it," Eddard thought. To the left was the god's eye, stretching on and on, with only a speck of green indicating the isle of faces present in the center. "It ends where it all began. The gods have a twisted sense of humor at times." The heavens seemed to understand the seriousness of the event though, and the sky was loaded with dark grey clouds. The soft light of the quiet before the storm glinted of the shields and weapons of the men. He saw the gigantic army in front of him, all proudly flying the red dragon. Its three heads snarled, ready to prove the dominance of the targaryen dynasty. They had many more men. The north had fielded only about ⅔ of their strength, due to the haste of the march. This meant that only 12000 Northmen had marched south, and that number was further reduced by battles. The Vale fielded another 15000, due to their losses in battle as well as the need to secure the vale. The stormlands were spread out in their own lands, for they had been bloodied at Ashford. Only about 5000 remained to fight. Finally, the riverlords, ever factitious, had only about half their strength. They contributed about 9000 swords to the battle. It would be a hard battle as Rhaegar has more knights and cavalry than them as well.

Robert, in a fit of brilliance had surmised a plan to defeat this numerically superior foe. He had seen how Rhaegar had marched his men quickly to intercept them at the god's eye, securing his right flank. Even now the entire cavalry of the royalists was on their left flank, due to not having to defend the right. The reach had contributed mostly horse, and they would crush the weaker rebel cavalry. Then they would proceed to wheel right and butcher their way through the infantry.

Robert had anticipated all this however. "Why else would the dragon fucker want to fight us beside the lake? He wants us pinned down." Robert had said at the council. So he had devised a counter strategy. The riverlords and the Vale forces, along with the northern infantry would make up the main force. To the right flank, they would place the heavy northern cavalry, as well as the knights of the Vale. Behind them, the battle hardened Stormlands would lie in wait where Rhaegar would not be able to see them. The cavalry would retreat as soon as possible, drawing in the enemy, so the stormlands could use their pikes to destroy them. This would leave their center a little weak, but the hardened warriors would hold, at least until the strategy worked. Rhaegar, it seemed, was leading from the back, confident in his plan.

Eddard and his lords were part of the heavy cavalry. Robert was also there with a few choice stormlords. They were waiting at the back, and would charge when the stormlands infantry destroyed the cavalry. Eddard heard the war horn sound, as the entire targaryen army began to advance. He unsheathed ice and held it at the ready. The future of westeros was about to be decided.

Rhaegar looked over the battle from a hastily constructed platform. His infantry was engaging the center of the rebel line, and the battle was only getting bloodier. Neither side was budging much, as the numerical advantage was, for now, negated by the experience of the rebel forces. "Not for long" he thought. He saw Lord Rowan sounding the charge. 12000 horsemen charging in formation was a fearsome sight. It seemed they were crushing the rebel cavalry, who were retreating after only a few minutes of battle. A shadow came across Rhaegar's face. He had expected them to have more spirit. Something was off here.

On the other end of the field, Eddard, Robert, and Denys were bearing the brunt of the charge. The knights of the reach may have been inexperienced, but there were enough of them that the cavalry was being totally overwhelmed. Eddard hacked left and right with ice, appendages, blood, and all manner of things flying everywhere. The battle was chaos, with the screams off men and horses becoming a constant noise. The northern cavalry was barely holding together from the continued fresh waves of reacher horsemen. Eddard knew it was time to execute the plan. He signaled to his lords to give the orders. "FALL BACK!" That was Robert, with his booming voice. He was the only one who could make himself heard over the din of battle. Denys also commanded his forces to retreat. They all stayed organized, while giving the appearance of a terrified force. They split around the stromalanders behind them.

The reacher knights grew excited. There was glory to be won! Though Lord Rowan tried to reign them in, they charged forward as quick as they could. Their tight wedges from before were completely broken, and each knight was trying to get a name for himself. Their hot bloodedness would be their downfall. As they wheeled right to crush the rebel infantry, they encountered the Stormlanders.

The men that still remained with Robert were the most dedicated. Experienced and vicious, they tore into the charging knights. The disorganized knight never stood a chance. Suddenly the spearmen were everywhere, striking at them, killing their horses, and destroying their charge. To make matters worse, the "fleeing" cavalry had wheeled around and was performing an organized contercharged. Lord Rowan pulled back what men he could, but the Reach's cavalry was badly savaged, losing about half their number. The rest could not organize, as they were caught in small pockets by the rebels who had charged them.

By this time Rhaegar had seen what was happening to his forces. Quickly calling for a horse he had ridden towards the left flank. It was too late however. The majority of the rebel cavalry had broken through and were butchering there way through the royalist infantry from the left. The rebel infantry was cheered by this and fought twice as hard. Slowly the targaryen army was being pushed back towards the Gods Eye.

Finally, Rhaegar made it to the heart of the melee. His experienced knights and kingsguard cut a swath through the kingsguard. Barristan Selmy and Jonothor Darry were beside him as he fought his way to Robert. Llewyn Martell was commanding the Dornish. By now, Robert and his commanders were barely 100 yards from the gods eye. Robert saw him coming and let out a roar, a primal sound of fury.

They met with a thunderous crash, both their horses screaming. Rhaegar's lance smashed against Robert's shield,while Robert's hammer smashed into the pure white horse Rhaegar rode. This caused both of them to be thrown to the ground. Eddard engaged Ser Barristan along with Roose Bolton. The meeting of the two charges had thrown most of the combatants to the ground, where the continued to fight. The rest of the cavalry was engaging the loyalist army. Eddard knew this was where it would all be decided however.

Robert stared at Rhaegar with pure hatred in his eyes. The three headed dragon symbol on his chest plate sent him into a rage. With another roar, he launched himself at Rhaegar, who was caught off guard by the sheer force behind the attack. He was pushed very far back, almost to the edge of the gods eye. However he never lost his footwork as he retreated, and not one blow came close to touching him. He was tiring Robert out, but Robert refused to quit, smashing again and again with his hammer, at speeds that shouldn't have been possible. As he stepped in the water of the gods eye, Rhaegar went on offense. He was not one of the best swords in westeros for nothing. He matched Robert blow for blow, and had farm more energy left. Robert however, was fueled by an obsession,an all encompassing hatred for house Targaryen. Back and forth they fought, hammer and sword crossing over and over while the fray continued around them. Nearby, Roose Bolton had been wounded by Ser Barristan, who was fighting ferociously. His white enameled armor took many hits that would have cause wounds, and he used it and his shield expertly. His sword moved like an extension of his arm, in perfect unison with his intention.

Eddard was just as good. After the rebellion had started, he had dedicated long hours to practicing with Ice, and learning how to use the length and weight of the sword to his advantage. In the open field, the great swing of Ice followed each other, and held Barristan the Bold at bay. This could not continue forever though.

Robert finally regained enough of his wits to feint Rhaegar. Rhaegar,who had been relying on Roberts lack of tactics during their battle, fell for it though he normally may not have. The hammer swung from the left but just as quickly whirled around the other way. Rhaegar, thought he fell for the feint, managed to get his sword up and block. However, the hammer was too strong, and the parry to hasty. The sword flew out of Rhaegar's hand and into the lake. He used his shield to continue deflecting the blows. Barristan tried to come to his aid, but Eddard refused to budge an inch, keeping the kingsguard away from the prince. Jonothor Darry had lost his battle with Denys Arryn and Greatjon Umber. Together, Denys' finesse and Umber's brute strength proved too much for him. At last the shield to fell from Rhaegar's hand. Finally the hammer whirled one last time and smashed Rhaegar in the chest. The intricate pattern of rubies which made the red dragon was shattered, with the rubies, and Rhaegar's blood flowing into the God's eye. The sound was like a gong being rung, and at once the battle nearby froze. Eddard took the moment of shock to disarm Ser Barristan and capture him.

Elsewhere, Ser Lyn Corbray had taken up his father's sword, and cut a swath through the dornish to take his revenge on Llewyn Martell who lay bleeding to death. The battle hardened rebel infantry had managed to hold the line, and the reacher cavalry had been all but routed.

As Robert Baratheon shouted in victory again and again he looked like a demon, standing over the broken prince. Accompanying his shouts were great cracks of thunder and brilliant flashes of lightning, as if the fury was echoed by the sky. The Targaryens forces began to surrender en masse, as their morale had been broken and their prince lay dead. The battle was won, though not without cost. Bodies of rebels lay in the mud along with royalists, equal in death. Eddard turned towards the east, looking towards King's Landing. The war was nearly over.

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Far away, on an isle that was out of time, an ancient power was roused from its slumber. The bloodshed besides the God's eye had seeped into the ground and eventually into the lake. The waters had carried the blood of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men to the isle. There was a trickle of blood from old Valyria as well. The roots of the many ancient trees drank greedily, restoring their power in the only way available to them. There were other ways, but none of those were possible now. The green men stared in wonder as the weirwoods came to life.

Far to the north, a man was suspended with roots holding him and piercing though his body. His eyes snapped open as he felt more power than he had in hundreds of years of his life. He gave a smile that would have chilled even the bravest souls. "Well well well." he said. "The game has been changed."


	6. End of a Quest

A sea of gold moved towards the great walls of kings landing. Banners of manticores, dogs, boars, flew in different places. Above them all the golden lion of Lannister flew, proudly towering over the lesser banners. Tywin Lannister mirrored his banner and towered above his lords as they made haste towards the city. Tywin had already sent the message to Pycelle telling him to let the army into the city. With the prince dead, and the army routed, the Targaryen dynasty was on its last legs. The only way to make any impact on the war now was to take King's Landing, and present it to their new King, Robert.

Robert had announced his claim after the end of the battle. Though he claimed some nonsense about his Targaryen grandmother giving him some right. Tywin knew what it really was. The fundamental law of nature that mankind thought to leave in the past was at play again. The strong enforcing their will upon the weak for might was right. Tywin snorted at the foolishness. No matter what fools thought about honor, or glory, or kindness, power was the only truth. Whether in the form of wealth, political capitol, or strength of arms, it is power that ultimately triumphs. As the gold road came to an end, the Lion Gate began to swing open, allowing the army passage within the city. All the men had their orders. This siege was to be as brutal as possible, so as to quell the thought of any Targaryen loyalty. Some of the knights, who were actually worthy of that title, were disgusted with what they were about to do. Others, like the giant riding slightly ahead of the other lords was grinning in anticipation. As the first soldiers entered, they quickly drew their swords and gutted the guardsmen of the gatehouse. The screams started, and the army began their bloody work. The siege of King's Landing had begun.

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Eddard took a breath, and almost immediately recoiled. The smell of king's landing had begun to permeate the air as they got closer to the great city. With him was the Northern horse, and most of his lords. They had left behind the foot on the way, because they had heard the Lannisters were marching to King's Landing. The reinforcement of Lannister men to the capitol would be prolong the war for a long time, and could not be allowed. They had to take the city before the Lannisters arrived. As Eddard rode over the last of the gently rolling hills of the riverlands, he saw the capitol. He sucked in a breath. His lords were not as restrained. "Fucking hell!" exclaimed the Greatjon, who was now lord of House Umber. The other lords all expressed their shock. In front of them, the great city of the Targaryens, the city of Kings, was burning. Coal black plumes of smoke rose high above the city, and banners of the golden lion flew from the walls. The Lannister army was still moving into the capitol, evidently they had just begun their assault.

"The royal family!" Eddard thought. Tywin Lannister was well known for his ruthlessness. Though Aerys was a despicable monster, Eddard held no ill will towards princess Elia or her children. The people of king's landing were also innocent, but he could not do much for them currently. "To the red keep! Secure the city!" he shouted. The men followed as he rode as fast as he could towards the great castle of the dragons.

The Lannister men did not hinder them as they galloped forward. They were far too busy looting and pillaging. Behind him, his men were trying to bring some semblance of order to the siege. He and his lords galloped straight for the red keep. The Lannister men again did little to hinder them. The Targaryen guards had either been slaughtered or pushed back, the red keep bearing scars of the recent fighting. They reached the main part of the red keep, and continued inside. Virtually unopposed, they made their way to the throne room.

There was a pounding in Eddard's head. He was running as fast as he could, the adrenaline filling him with energy. His revenge for the deaths of his brother and father was so close, he could almost taste it. Yet when they stormed in, they were greeted with the sight of Aerys on the floor, blood pooled around him. Upon the iron throne was Jaime Lannister, lounging like he had no care in the world. "Took you long enough Stark. A shame you missed all the real battle." the kingsguard said. "How dare you kill Aerys! He was mine." said Eddard, his anger escaping him. "Don't play high and mighty. Who cares who did it as long as he's dead?" At this they were all aghast. So casually breaking a vow of such high caliber? It as unthinkable. Eddard narrowed his eyes. There had to be more, for this boy before him could not be that flippant. His slight tenseness betrayed him. "And the royal family? Where are they?"

Scarcely after the words left his mouth, Jaime's eyes widened and he burst out of his seat upon the throne.. Shocked by the sudden action, the lords drew their sword, but the knight paid them no heed. He rushed past them to the doors. Guessing his intentions, Eddard motioned for his lords to follow, and they ran after Ser Jaime. They ascended to a different part of the maidenvault, where the rooms of the royal family were. They heard a scream, followed by a clash of steel. "Check the rooms!" he shouted. Lords Umber and Reed were at his back. The rest split to search the other rooms. When he came into the room, ice drawn, he saw Ser Jaime trading blows with a huge man.

Princess Elia was behind Ser Jaime, cowering. The man Ser Jaime was fighting was over seven feet tall, with arms like tree trunks. He carried a sword that would have taken 2 men to lift. Even as young as he was, his reputation had already spread. It was the Mountain. Without hesitation, Eddard leapt into the fray. Using Ice skillfully, he took some pressure off of Ser Jaime. Greatjon Umber, who was almost as tall as the mountain, also stepped in to protect his lord. Though the mountain was an extremely powerful man, Jaime had not been made kingsguard solely to be a hostage and was holding his own. Combined with Eddard's prowess and Umbers strength, the mountain was like a cornered dog, not able to strike them.

Lord Reed went to Princess Elia, gently urging her to come with him away from the fight. "Cornered animals are the most dangerous." thought Eddard. Sure enough, the huge knight seemed to gain another wave of energy. He was bleeding from many cuts, but they were merely flesh wounds to a man his size. Seeing the equally large Umber as the bigger threat, he bull rushed him, using plate and shield to cover himself. The charge caught Greatjon off guard, and he was shoved back, the mountain's shoulder ramming his head. The small victory cost the mountain greatly. In the next moment Ice flashed in the light of the lanterns and came down on the mountains arm. The valyrian steel, finding a connecting segment of the plate armor, cut down through flesh, bone, and flesh again. The mountain's might shield arm fell on the carpet.

Bellowing in pain, the mountain responded with a ferocious overhead swing of his sword. The great would did nothing to reduce his strength. The monster just kept fighting. Eddard blocked hastily, the diagonal slant of his parry deflecting the blow. His bones still shook from its force though. In his anger at the man who had crippled him, the mountain forgot Jaime, who had circled around and moved to strike. While not Valyrian steel, it was the best steel that could be made without magical aide. It too cleaved through the mountain's other arm. Now without his sword or shield, the mountain finally slowed down, the blood loss triumphing over the berserker rage.

Kneeling on the floor, he bellowed in pain. "Finish it you coward!" he shouted.

"Gladly." Eddard replied. Ice swung once again, and the mountain was no more. The head fell on the floor, bloodying it even more.

Greatjon had regained his wits, and Jaime sheathed his sword. The battle was done. Lords Glover and Forrester entered with threw a man onto the floor. He was wearing Lannister colors, and was bound with his hands behind his back.

"Ser Lorch." Jaime said with derision. "Cruel as the mountain, but a craven fool." He turned to Eddard. "This is my father's work."

"You say that as if you didn't know of this plot Lannister scum." Greatjon said, distrusting the golden haired man still.

"I swear didn't know about the royal family. I bear them no ill will."

"Then why did you kill Aerys, if you were still loyal?" questioned Eddard. Jaime looked away, not answering.

"I would like to know as well Ser Jaime." a soft voice from the doorway said. They all turned in surprise to see the princess Elia.

"Princess. . ." Jaime could not continue.

"You never acted before ser Jaime. Not when Aerys raped his queen and you heard the screams. Not when Aerys burned Lord Stark, or the countless others. Not at a hundred other atrocities." with each moment her voice rose. "If not then why now?" she asked, almost shouting. Jaime broke under the relentless questioning. He could put up a front against the northmen, but he could not deny the princess.

"It was the pyromancers. Aerys ordered them to reduce the city to the ash. He thought the wildfire would make him a dragon, and he would rule over the ashes of his enemies. I could not let it happen." Eddard and the other lords paled. All of their forces, as well as the many civilians, would have been burned alive by the potent fire. "Why were you going to conceal this Ser?" "Who would have believed me? I thought it best to let the caches rot until they couldn't light a campfire. Who cares what others think? All these oaths and flowery words are false anyway." the cynicism in his voice resonated with Eddard. He had lost many things over the past few moons.

"Ser Jaime I may be of the north, but I was fostered in the Vale. I know the vows that a knight takes. To defend the weak, to protect those who cannot defend themselves. I thought you an honorless man, but I see I was mistaken. You kept your oaths, the ones that mattered." Jamie might have snorted derisively at the man's words, but they gave him a sense of validation he didn't know he longed for. He was only 17, and the past two years as kingsguard had taken their toll. There was barely a friendly face in the capitol and his very soul was being eroded bit by bit. Reminded that at least he had acted as befitting a knight had cleared some of the darkness weighing upon his mind.

The silence was broken when Lord Forrester gave his report. "We found Lorch trying to murder the princess. We stopped him in time, and have princess Rhaenys under guard." Eddard nodded at that. "Ser Lorch will face trial, as the battle is done and he is captured. Ser Jaime may go where he pleases, we shall not hinder him. We shall search the keep for Lady Lyanna, and also secure the keep for Robert's arrival." In truth, Eddard had been tempted to take the throne and right the wrongs of the realm. Once upon a time, his rigid honor wouldn't have let him think of it, but he knew he would probably be a better king than many others. The name stark had stood for millennia, ensuring he was not lacking in ancestry. Yet still, he decided not to, because he was needed in the North, in his homeland. The North had never cared much for the south, and he was the same. He would return to where he belonged and do his best there, once all was finished.

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The rest of the now victorious rebel forces had arrived shortly afterwards. The city and the keep was as secure, and the process of rebuilding had begun. Eddard had sent men to collect the wildfire caches and get rid of them somewhere safe. This had proved difficult however, as the pyromancers were dead, and they knew no way to safely dispose of it. Eddard ordered it to be shipped back north. Perhaps in the cold it would lose its potency, and become harmless. He was now in the throne room, awaiting Robert and Jon with his lords. Robert had arrived the day before but now would officially place himself on the throne. The doors of the great hall opened, and Robert walked in, looking every inch the victorious king. His beard and hair were neatly trimmed, and he was wearing finery that befitted his new station. Behind him walked Tywin Lannister and Jon Arryn, also looking their best for the crowning. Robert seated himself upon the throne, and all present knelt before their new king. Then, something unexpected happened.

The great doors opened once again, and in came knights wearing Lannister colors. They carried a small casket, which was covered with a red cloak. Robert looked at the casket expectantly. "No. . . surely not." thought Eddard. Yet it was so. He listened, shocked, as Tywin presented the shattered infant body of Prince Aegon to Robert. Eddard thought Robert would rage, and punish Tywin. For whatever else he was, Robert was a good enough man that murder of a child would incense him. Then, Robert began to laugh. Great belly laughs, so pleased that they belied the dark cause of Robert's joy. Eddard tensed, all his muscles tightening in an effort to control himself. His rage slowly grew, until he could hold himself no longer.

"What in the seven hells are you laughing at Robert!" he yelled.

"That's is 'your grace' to you Lord Stark." Tywin interjected. Eddard shot him an icy glare, and then turned back to Robert who was now staring at Eddard in curiosity.

"What do you mean Ned? The dragonspawn is dead, they're all dead. We have avenged your family."

"No Robert, Aerys killed my family not his grandchild. It is a heinous crime to kill children, are you not at all affected by this? It was murder!"

"HE WAS A TARGARYEN!" Robert shouted. The laughter was gone, replaced with a thunderous countenance. "All dragonspawn should suffer this same fate."

"What of the princess then? Are we going to murder her as well?" Eddard said.

"Not murder. Justice. She laid with the dragon and so her and her filthy daughter must die." Eddard shook his head his eyes narrow. The hall was silent as the two friends hurled heated words, enthralled by the spectacle. Tywin had no expression due to his control, but he seemed pleased with this all the same. Jon had a worried look on his face.

"Let's all calm down. Ned, the reach is still sieging storm's end, and Lyanna is missing. We can't break apart now."

Eddard looked between his mentor and his best friend. He could not even recognize Robert as he was now. "It's not him." Eddard realized. "It's the demon of the eye." He could still remember the antlered figure bellowing to the sky after the battle. He had scarcely recognized his friend in that moment. Aloud he said "I no longer want any part in this. I have the princess and her daughter on a ship to Dorne, and I will go to find Lyanna. I am finished with this war." So saying he walked out of the throne room, ignoring Robert's enraged calls.

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In the few weeks since his confrontation with Robert, he had taken the army to Storm's end and freed it. Stannis had been grateful, but Eddard did not have time to stay there. He had ridden with all haste for the Tower of Joy, for he had learned that it was where his sister was. He had elected to take Howland Reed and Willem Dustin, leaving the rest of his lords to return to their holdfasts in the North. It would have been foolish to take more lords into dorne without a cause. The rest of their party was made a trusted men at arms, and a force of ten crossbowmen. There were few in the North, but Eddard felt he needed insurance. Many of the kingsguard had not been found, and he suspected they may be at the tower. As they rode over the last hill, the tower came into view. At its base, they saw 3 figures in white armor. "Just as I thought."

Eddard spurred his horse. Once close enough, they dismounted and approached the three men. "Where is my sister Sers?" he said, not bothering to chat. "Our queen is within, and she shall soon birth the prince." Gerold Hightower replied. "Let us inside." Eddard said. As he moved to go in, the kingsguard drew their swords. Ser Arthur's sword, dawn, glinted in the light. In response, his own men drew their weapons. "We cannot let you pass. We swore an oath." said Ser Arthur. Eddard backed off and drew Ice. "I thought it might come to this. I mean my sister no harm. Let me pass and I will not be forced to end you." "Do you think you have the skill to defeat us?" asked the White Bull. "Perhaps not." Eddard replied. "But we do." As he said so, his men surrounded the kingsguard with their spears, while the crossbowmen aimed their already loaded weapons. The kingsguard may have been able to kill a few of them, yet even they could not do much against such odds. "The kingsguard do not surrender." said Ser Gerold.

Eddard tried one more time. "Ser the mad king is dead, and he was not fit to rule. I know you took vows, but what about your vows as knights? To protect the weak and helpless? Your fellow kingsguard Jaime knew this." Ser Gerold was unmoved, his face set in stone. Ser Whent was the same. Arthur, however, looked conflicted. Seeing him waver, Eddard pressed on. "The king burned people live without trials! He took away rights which have been in existence for millennia. He broke his oath to never dishonor those in his service. Surely that releases you from your oaths." "Enough!" Gerold bellowed. "We kingsguard will fight to our last breath! Attack!" He and Ser Whent charged, breaking through the thicket of spears. Arthur remained behind however, still wavering. The two kingsguard were ferocious and skillful, but the crossbows were ready.

They released with soft hisses, finding chinks in the armor of the kingsguard. Even still the fearsome knights persisted, managing to break through to where Eddard, Howland, and Willem stood. Howland was ready however, and his trident shot forward, spearing the tired Lord Commander of the kingsguard in his throat. Whent was dispatched by Ser Dustin, who caught the man's blade on his shield, and stabbed him through the leg. The wound was deep, and Ser Whent bled out quickly. Eddard himself focused on Arthur. "Arthur it doesn't have to end like this. I know you are a good and honorable man, all the Kingsguard were. Don't let oaths keep you from doing the right thing." Arthur looked conflicted for a few moments more, and then his face cleared.

"Rhaegar was clear that his queen was Lyanna and her son would be the prince. Since it he is the heir, it is him I will serve. I know you will not harm your kin." So saying, the knight sheathed his sword, and stood away from the entrance. Eddard and his men relaxed, and Eddard nodded once at Arthur. Then abandoning all other thoughts, he rushed into the tower, intent on reaching his sister.

The tower was well lit, with torches and lanterns throughout. He reached the room where his sister was and slammed open the door. There she was. After over a year of separation, he was united with his sister at last. All was not well with their reunion however. There was a midwife present, and judging from the blood Lyanna had just given birth. She looked weak and tired. She saw him as he approached the bed.

"Ned you came." she said softly. "I need you to take Jon- that's his name." Eddard glanced at the babe, his new nephew. "Don't speak that way Lyanna. I'm taking both of you to Winterfell where you belong. You'll be fine don't worry." his voice caught as he said the last few words. Lyanna smiled sadly as she sensed the uncertainty of his tone. "No Ned. The birth has taken too much out of me. I will not last, and I don't want to either. Just promise me that you will protect Jon. Promise me Ned." Seeing the look in his sister's eye he was unable to deny her.

"I promise Lya, I promise I will protect him." Lyanna seemed to sigh in relief and her eyes closed. Eddard's tears fell on the floor, for he realized that his sister's eyes would never open again. He looked again at the babe, who had begun to cry. Jon. A good name for his nephew. He was too wrapped in this fresh wave of grief to think about the implications of a legitimate Targaryen heir. He would sort it out later. For now he wanted to leave this godsforsaken place.


	7. Dreams and Omens

Starfall was a beautiful sight, with its white stone turrets rising into the evening sky. Arthur's face softened as he beheld his home. Beside him Eddard sighed slightly, longing for the day he would again lay eyes upon his own home. After the skirmish at the tower of the joy, they had buried the two slain knights and their own fallen comrades. Lyanna's bones were taken with them to be interred into the crypts of Winterfell. At first, Eddard had planned to simply ride back to the North, but Arthur had insisted he take a ship from Starfall. It would be faster, and allow Arthur to show his gratitude for sparing him the fate of his fallen brothers.

Though he had agreed to this, Eddard was uncomfortable. Ever since the tower of Joy he had been having many strange dreams. Sometimes he saw shades of the ones he had lost in the war, all of them pointing to the North. They seemed to be speaking as well, but he could not hear them. There were times when he was walking along the moors of the north, enjoying the sights of his land. Every time he could felt as if he was being watched. When he turned around he would always see nothing. He would run, but the feeling would get stronger until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Once he had seen 10 winter roses grow to a giant size, only to be wrapped by many decaying plants and pulled into the ground.

He had spoken to Howland Reed about these dreams, as he had grown closer to the man during the campaign. Reed had nodded seriously, not at all phased by the strange dreams. "I too have felt it Ned. These dreams the rebellion, the upheaval. There is a change in the air." Eddard was slightly reassured that it was not just him. "What do I do Howland? I cannot simply ignore these dreams, for they plague me near every night. I fear this is more than the terros men receive after a war."

"My lord none can predict the will of the gods. You're only way forward is to listen and learn, because only a fool ignores this type of sign."

He put the dreams in the back of his in the back of his mind after vowing to follow through on them later. Starfall was nearly upon them. He spurred his horse a bit to keep up with Arthur. "What will you do now Ser? Join the new Kingsguard?"

Arthur snorted, finding the idea entertaining. "Serve that drunken oaf? Never. I will serve the son of my prince, who was a hero no matter what the realm says." Eddard sighed, because he had guessed this answer. He had learned the truth of the Lyanna's kidnapping and how the rebellion need not have ended the way it did. Aerys had to be ousted, but a great council was already in the works to achieve that. Rhaegar's actions has thrown everything off. "What did you see Rhaegar? What did you see that drove you to do such things?" Ever since his own dreams had started, he had been wondering more and more as to the true motive behind Rhaegar's actions.

At last they arrived before the gates. Ser Arthur drew dawn and held it aloft, speaking loudly in a formal tone. "By the power of dawn, I command the great gates open!" The gates creaked open slowly, as the guards inside heard their Lord's voice. They rode inside and the servants, who recognized Arthur, took their horses and provided chalices of wine. Lord Dayne was informed, and he came to greet them in the courtyard.

Arthur warmly greeted his brother, and Eddard was about to issue his own greeting when his breath caught in his throat. Behind Lord Dayne stood the Lady Ashara, looking as radiant as ever. She wore a purple dress which matched with her enchanting eyes. Her long dark hair cascaded softly over her shoulders, bouncing slightly as she walked. "Arthur you're alright!" she shouted, going to embrace her brother. Seeing the siblings reunite snapped Eddard out of his trance and he too greeted Lord Dayne. Ashara turned to him and smiled a little mischievously. "And if it isn't the fearsome wolf, slayer of men and armies alike." Eddard struggled to respond, but Ashara was not finished. "As I remember he had to ask his brother to talk to me for him, as he was too intimidated by my beauty at the tourney." Her voice carried easily in the silence, and his own men laughed uproariously at the revelation.

He gave them a the best glare he could manage, but could not help chuckling along. "That was a then my lady, I was a mere boy. Things are different now." She raised and eyebrow. "Oh really now?" Their conversation was ended by Lord Dayne clearing his throat. "As wonderful as this reunion is, I feel it would be remiss of me to not invite our guests inside to eat and rest. The formalities can be observed later" With that they went inside, Ashara promising to talk to Ned later. Arthur was not too surprised at their interactions, having regular correspondence with Ashara.

As they made their way to their quarters, Willem sent a sidelong glance at Eddard. "It is good that you have at least one person like her my Lord."

"What do you mean Willem? We are not… involved in that way, nor were we ever. And I said to call me Ned"

"I did not mean that my lord." Willem smiled. "You have brooded constantly since King's Landing. Finally there was a hint of joy on your face, or at least something other than darkness."

"Tis true my friend. You need to let go of at least some of your pain or it will consume you." Howland added his own advice.

"Perhaps you are right. I will try to enjoy myself a bit more." For the first time in a while, some of the pain left his mind. He had become so used to the grief, that he had almost forgotten it. Like an old wound which throbbed with a dull pain, he had learned to ignore it but it still weighed on him. Now, with the shock of seeing his old friend as well as the advice he received, he realized that perhaps he was going too deep in despair.

Once they had unpacked and refreshed themselves they were invited to dine with they Daynes. Before they began to eat, Lord Dayne stood. "Today our Sword of the Morning returned to us. With him came one of the heroes of the rebellion, and a friend of Dorne and Starfall. To Eddard, and his companions, we offer our thanks." They all began to eat. Eddard was confused when he heard himself referred to as "friend of Dorne." Lord Dayne must have seen his curious look, for he elaborated as he ate. "Word of your deeds in King's Landing has reached us. You saved our princess, who was a hostage to the throne. Dorne will not forget that there is at least one man of honor in Westeros."

Eddard had the strange urge to laugh at the last part of that statement. He remembered long ago when he had resolved to become a more practical man, and learn how to protect his loved ones. It seemed that though he was far more willing to compromise, it was not in him to be as brutal as the likes of Tywin. He liked to think of it as striking a balance, but only time would tell. "Thank you for your kind words Lord Dayne. How goes the ruling of Starfall?" And so the dinner went on with idle talk of Lords. Ashara was curiously silent, finishing the spicy Dornish meal rather quickly. Eddard did not have much of an appetite, and so he too finished his food early. Finally Ashara spoke. "Would you care to walk with me Lord Stark."

It was clear from her tone that this was not a suggestion. Also clear was that this was not like the teasing conversation earlier, but more serious. "Of course my Lady." He quickly excused himself, and went with her into the halls. They walked until they reached one of the many balconies, the soft light of the waxing moon falling all around them.

"We need to talk Ned." said Ashara. He simply nodded, content to let her speak first. "First of all you need to know that I had a child." Ned's eyebrows raised to his hairline. Cautiously he spoke. "Is it?" He did not need to finish the query. "Yes she was Brandon's." seeing his look at the word was, she continued. "She was stillborn. Back at the tourney he was charming, and I wanted to be with someone at the time. I did like you however. You are a good man, if a quiet one. I want to know your feelings." This earned a wry smile, for it seemed that the name "quiet wolf" would never leave him. "Ashara when I first saw you I was enamored. You were the most beautiful women I had ever seen, and that has not changed. Yet I have grown a little since that time, and I realize it was not truly love for you. I am a married man now, and while we may have made a good match, it is not painful for me." Ashara relaxed at his confession, nodding as if this confirmed her thoughts.

"Forgive me if this was all a bit direct, but the war changed my perspective, especially with Elia's ordeal. There is no time for the dance of words that is we usually perform."

"It's alright. I am glad that we have an understanding between us."

"I'll write you occasionally. Friends like you are hard to come by."

Eddard smiled and nodded, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence. The sound of the waves washed over them, both of them feeling a little more peace of mind then before. After a while, Eddard excused himself, and went to rest. It was going to be a long journey back to Winterfell.

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The ship sailed gracefully through the waters of the summer sea. They had boarded the ship the morning after their stay in Starfall. Arthur too had joined their party, so as to remain with Jon. They had fabricated a story where the kingsguard had all been slain at the tower of joy. Arthur had eschewed his white enameled armor for a simple grey set. He had also dyed his hair and cut it short. He was now unrecognizable from the other men at arms from the North. The other men of the contingent had been sworn to secrecy.

Lord Dayne had told him the ship would stop at Sunspear for a short while, allowing Eddard to be properly received by Doran for his rescue of Elia. Eddard had no known how beloved the princess was in Dorne, as nearly all the lords had personal relationships with her. She had traveled through Dorne in her younger years, fostering goodwill everywhere.

Eddard realized that he would also need to stop in King's Landing and go on land from there. Though he was appalled by Robert's actions, it was still Robert. The man he had grown up with, his friends. Their years of adventures and friendship at the Eyrie could not be erased over one argument or deed. Yet Eddard had seen a part of Robert that made him certain that things would never be the same. Robert had the potential to be great, and good, but often his impulses drove him towards terrible things. Sill, he could not leave things in flux and would go settle it.

He also needed to take his lady wife from Riverrun to Winterfell, and at least give her a chance. As it was, they were barely better than strangers. There was also the strange pull he had been feeling for a while now. It drew him back towards the North, more than his own homesickness. He felt it in his bones that it was something which could not be ignored.

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Jon Arryn ran a had through his hair as he went about the business of cleaning up yet another mess his errant ward had made. Except this time, the mess as the realm, and he as hand had to stitch it together. Eddard had done right in saving the princess, because only for that would Dorne come into the fold. The Reach was quiet for now, and the Westerlands were pushing for ever more influence. Tywin's daughter was already betrothed to Robert, and golden haired lordlings were filling up many positions in King's Landing. It was all he could do to counter their influence as well as manage Robert. He had planned a trip to Dorne to ensure they were back in the fold.

Robert had gone into a state after his best friend had left him. Unable to deal with such contempt from Eddaard, he had resorted to wine and whores to forget his shame. He had left ruling to Jon, wo feared this would become something of a pattern these days.

He had some help at least. A minor lord from the Vale who had managed Gulltown was quite helpful with the finances, and happily took up many other tasks Jon did not have time for. He was thinking to have him named master of coin, so as to curb Lannister influence, and keep the man here where he needed him. "Yes." he thought. "Baelish shall be a great help in this city."

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Sunspear and the shadow city stretched west from the coast in a sprawling chaotic mass. The Tower of the Sun was the most prominent, its golden dome gleaming in the afternoon light. The smell of the sea was strong as their ship docked at Sunspear's harbor. They were immediately received by men of house Martell. It seemed lord Dayne had sent word of them ahead to Sunspear. It was much the same as Starfall. They were escorted inside, and treated as if they were royalty. Eventually it was time to meet the rulers of Dorne.

They met them in the tower of the sun. Doran sat upon the high throne, while his brother and sister sat beside him. The princess Elia looked much better now, her ordeal nothing but a bad memory. Time in her childhood home had no doubt done her good. "Welcome Lord Stark. We know you are anxious to return home, and so we thank you for stopping here at our request." Doran said. "You have done us great service in protecting our princess."

"Yes" interjected Oberyn. "We shall not forget this. If ever you are in trouble, Dorne will rise to your aid." Doran glanced at Oberyn but continued nonetheless.

"We also want to have closer ties with the north. We are Rhoynar and you are first men. Our cultures are proud and free from the ways of the rest of Westeros. I believe it is time we took advantage of this."

Eddard nodded. He sensed that this was moving into the political space, and that having Dorne as an ally would be beneficial for the north. "I am thankful for the great welcome I have received. I look forward to Dorne and the North being closer to each other in the future." After that they retired to the solar, where they continued to discuss the particulars of their new alliance. It was decided that Oberyn would later visit the North to decide the particulars.

They stayed another few days in Sunspear, feasting and celebrating. Eddard had many conversations with doran on the subject of ruling, and found him to be a thoroughly competent administrator. He learned quite a bit from Doran about trade and managing the economy, for those were the lifeblood of Dorne. The desert people relied on the free cities trade to keep their nation strong. Their circumstances were quite similar, and Eddard already had a few ideas on how to improve the North.

It was soon time to leave Sunspear, and they set sail again. This time their destination was King's Landing, where Eddard hoped would be his last stop before going North.

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Kings Landing was just as terrible as he remembered. The smell had not at all lessened, and was actually worse at the docks where the smell of rotting fish mixed with everything else. Sighing, he made his way to the temporary quarters in the red keep. He would leave the city as soon as he could. First though, he had to speak with Robert.

When Robert heard he was back he put all else aside, and threw a welcoming feast. It seemed Jon Arryn had gone to negotiate with Dorne for the iron throne, and they had just missed him. At the feast they sat with next to each other and drank like they used to. After Eddard had told him of Lyanna, he drank even harder. He told no one of Jon. Eventually though, they would have to speak of what happened with the murder of the prince. It seemed that Lorch had gotten away free due to Tywin's influence. He was quite furious at the death of his attack dog however. There was nothing he could do about that now though. Robert was very apologetic, wanting things to go back to the way they were. Eddard had already decided though, that things would be different now. He also had to think of the North, and how having Robert begging his friendship could be used.

"All right Robert." he said as Robert continued to justify Aegon's murder. "I will be your friend again, but you must promise that you will be a better ruler, and a better man." Even as he said it, he knew it would not last, no matter Robert's eager nodding. Then he thought of something. "Robert, the fighting men of the North have suffered a lot, and winter is never far away in my homeland. It would be very kind of you to allow the North an exemption from taxes for maybe 3 years, just until we can get back on our feet." Eddard felt a bit dirty for using his friend like that, but he knew Robert would never say no to him. "Whatever you want Ned, you northern men deserve a break." he replied.

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After his feast with Robert, who entreated him to stay a few days, Eddard and his men left King's Landing to finally head North. On the way though, Eddard wanted to revisit the God's eye, and the island at its center. It had become a recurring part of his dreams lately and he could not rest until he visited it. It took them a few extra weeks of riding, but they had finally reached the lake where the battle had happened. It was now being called 'the ruby shore' after the rubies that had fallen there when Rhaegar died.

Curiously there was a boat already waiting for them, but it looked like it would only seat one of them. Eddard and Howland looked at each other and knew without speaking that it was for him. He climbed into the small boat, and began to row to the center of the great lake. As they grew closer to the isle of faces, he felt a power in the very air. The whole atmosphere seemed alive, similar to the feeling in a godswood. The weirwoods and other trees on the island had grown giant, likely a hundred feet high. Eddard reached the shore and disembarked. In front of them was a figure dressed in green with an antlered hood. "A green man." Eddard thought. "So they are real."

"Welcome Stark. We are the pleased you have come. There is much to see, much to do." the green man said. "Follow." And with that he disappeared and the trees moved to make a path for them, going to the center of the wood. As he walked, he saw more weirwoods then either had ever seen, with faces of all expressions carved upon them. Finally they reached the center of the island. There was a great circle made of nine weirwoods, probably the tallest on the island. In the center of the grove there was a raven, standing unmoving. As he got closer, it opened its beak and cawed loudly. On its forehead, a crack opened, and a third eye stared into his. Eddard fell into the trance, and felt like he was falling. His vision blurred.

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Eddard awoke slowly, and when he opened his eyes he saw he was in the throne room. Not in Winterfell but in the red keep, upon the Iron Throne. Its blades pricked at him. "Lord Hand? Lord Hand!" said Catelyn, who was right next to him.

"What?" he said slowly, confused.

"Long live the hand! Long live the Hand!" shouted a crowd of Gold cloaks in front of the King.

"What in the name of-" he was cut off as he blinked and the gold cloaks were now standing upside down on the ceiling, continuing their chants.

He heard Catelyn laugh slightly. "Lord Hand does not know he dreams."

Eddard turned sharply to his left, where she stood speaking to Howland Reed. Suddenly, Catelyn's hairpin transformed into the raven and flew off.

"The Raven!" he shouted. However now he was suddenly in the dining hall of Starfall, sitting across from Ashara Dayne.

"Eat your dinner my love. I prepared it just for you."

"Ashara? But how. . ." he looked around and realized he was not in reality. When he turned back he was shocked once more. In front of him Ashara was gone. In her place as Howland. "Howland? What is-"

"You haven't much time my lord." said Howland. "You must find this Rave-" he was cut off as his mouth froze over. One of his hands suddenly had a mouth in the palm which continued to speak. "Find this raven and catch it. It is your only hope."

"Howland what is this? A green dream? How can…" Howland disappeared. Eddard got up and walked to another table, where he saw Benjen. He looked like he was older and was with a woman that looked vaguely like a Mormont. "Benjen!" he shouted

"Ned? Thank goodness. This dream is far too real. It must be some strange magic."

"We must find out what it is trying to tell us. We have to find a raven."

"Like that one there?" Sure enough, the raven was peering at them from a table nearby.

"Yes! After it." They ran after the raven leaving the now frozen women behind.

As they ran their surroundings transformed into a deep wood. The raven disappeared again and they came to a stop.

The next moment, their father sat in front of them, painting like an on an easel leaned against a tree..

"Father?" they both asked at the same time. Their father simply gave them a half smile and continued to paint. They were entranced as his brush seemed to dance across painting. It was the raven!

It came to life and cawed, struggling out of the confines of its brushstrokes. Eddard was ready this time though. He quickly stepped forward to catch the little beast in his hands. Benjen stopped him though, by pushing him aside. "Benjen what are you doing?" It was not Benjen though, but a corpse. A walking corpse. He kicked it away in terror, and looked back to the raven. He quickly caught it again in his hands. As he opened them up, it seemed to smile. He noticed that it had three eyes. "Very good." it croaked. Eddard dropped it in shock. Upon hitting the ground it immediately became a man he recognized. The surroundings changed yet again to a snowy mountaintop, and Brandon Stark stood in front of him, grinning widely, his hair like writhing snakes. A shadow was upon his face.

"Brother! Come come, gather your strength." Eddard stepped forward. "Sound the horn brother." his voice became ominous. "Sound the horn." Again the man changed, into a handsome Valyrian looking one, wielding a dark Valyrian steel sword. "Find me in the north or all is lost." Abruptly, there was blackness.

When he woke up again, he saw the weirwoods around him. That was not all though. He was surrounded by many green men, who were staring unblinkingly at him. "What the hell was that?" he asked them.

"You have been called upon." they responded. "The blood of the andals, first men, rhoynar, and valyrians mixed in the waters. It gave us strength we have not felt for centuries, as these roots took in the power."

"What are you saying?"

"Eddard of house Stark, you have been chosen as the agent of the old gods in westeros. After many years of waning, finally their power has returned. Even still it is almost too late. We will work what magic we can from here, to stop what is coming and to ensure the true god's rise. You must find the one who sees with a thousand and one eyes, and seek his guidance. We may just have a chance to save the world of men. For now we will give you a gift, to ease your way." At this one of the men came forward, and touched Eddard's forehead with his palm. He felt power pass into him. "You will know how to use the gift when it is time."

As he looked around, he realized he was again in the boat, headed towards the shore. He knew he would not get much more out of the men of the isle, and so decided to return to his men and finish his journey North.


	8. The Long Road Home

When the Lord of Winterfell was touched by the powers of old, it served also as the point when the old gods reentered the world in full, regaining much of their lost glory. The result was a tremor felt across Planetos.

A pillar of light shined above the isle of faces, reaching impossibly high into the sky. In the citadel of the Maesters, both the hightower and the glass candles shined brightly, perplexing all who saw them. At the wall, the black brothers were shocked as the wall began to glow, like the sun rising over the horizon. It was a magnificent sight. Most of the denizens of westeros either did not see or dismissed these events. As Tywin Lannister said when informed of the rumors of lights and magic, "Let the smallfolk latch onto some new idiocy to try and ease their lives. The world does not work on magic and wishes." Though most followed this line of thought, a few saw the signs of what was coming.

Beyond Westeros, the effect was not as clear, yet it was felt. The red priests saw many things in their flames that day, of legends and monsters. As far as Yi Ti and Asshai sorcerers and Warlocks felt the great shockwave that had occured on the supernatural plane. The great temple of the red god in Asshai felt the effects as well. The massive flame that had been burning for eons as a tribute to R'hllor was snuffed out for the first time in centuries.

Far beyond the wall, in a citadel of despair, an icy trone sat. From the icicles on the ceiling, a single drop fell, and landed upon a frozen brow. The king felt the challenge to his power, bold and defiant. Ancient enemies had awakened, and caution was needed. He pushed back with his own might, sending his wintery magics to once more devastate the world. The ancient battle was renewed.

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The horses cantered along the road in a leisurely manner. The beauty of the riverlands was all around, with its wide plains and greenery. Though the rebellion had been bloody, not many actual battles had been fought, and the lands were mostly untouched. After his experience on the isle, Eddard had led the party North, towards home.

They had found that Hoster had already sent Lady Catelyn to the north, as the roads were now safe. They would probably catch up to her party somewhere past the Moat. Hoster had sent his daughter to ford the green fork at an earlier ford, so she would not have to deal with the quarrelsome Walder Frey. This allowed them to head directly to the north.

The realm was at peace, and was slowly returning to a state of complacency. Now that the war was finished, life was like the slow moving river beside them, with long stretches of monotony. Eddard had plenty of time to think on the ride home. He felt like he was coming out of a fog. During the rebellion he had either been making battle strategies or brooding over the fate of his family. Now his mind had time to process all that had happened.

At first he had been quite angry at his sister for the way she left. The grief of losing her had given way to disappointment at her actions. Yet he had almost immediately felt ashamed of himself, because Lyanna was not completely at fault. Ser Arthur had told him how she had not known of the rebellion until it was far too late. If anyone was to blame it was Rhaegar. Arthur had told him of how the prince seemed mad, speaking of Ice and Fire and old legends. As much as he wanted to dismiss Rhaegar as a mad fool, he could not. After his meeting with the Green Men, there might even be some truth to those ravings. A shadow fell across his face. "Dangers everywhere," he thought.

The realm was not as stable as it appeared. The great houses constantly vied for power and control in their game of thrones. The North would need to be ready, lest it fall prey to some ambitious lord's plans. Tywin Lannister, the Tyrells, and others were always circling, looking for a weakness. He had also seen the same ambition in a few of his own lords. At least Umber had been honest. The cunning ones like Bolton had decided to keep forces in reserve, to weaken his position after the war and increase their influence. It seemed the North was not as free of southern games as he had thought.

"No more." he thought. "The Starks hold the North, and that will never change." He then wondered at his own thoughts. The Starks had held the North, seemingly forever. The Starks had been the Kings of the North for over 8000 years. Yet what had they done in those 8000 years? The winters still harried them just as much. The tradition of old men going out to hunt in winter was still practiced, and all most people thought about was surviving winter. This did have benefits, as the people of the North were as a whole more honest and straightforward having no use for frivolities. They were also quite frugal. The constant struggle to survive had forged them into a strong people. Yet the North was stagnating. In his time at the Eyrie, he had read and learned much, and he knew that his kingdom would need to get much stronger to truly contend with the others. An unusual spark of ambition flared inside him. He would make sure the North was the greatest kingdom in Westeros.

"What are you thinking now Ned? You have been silent for quite some time," Willem said to him.

"Just some thoughts about home Willem. We need to forge the north into a stronger realm, for threats to it are ever present," Eddard replied. "Say Willem, your family has the best horses in our land does it not?"

Willem raised an eyebrow. "Yes we Dustins pride ourselves on that fact."

"I want the North's cavalry forces to be increased. Our cavalry is a strong part of our army, contributing more to battles in proportion to its size. If we improve it we can make up for our comparatively smaller forces. Your house's skills will be essential to that. You can breed more and better horses, which will be used by the army."

Willem's eyes slowly grew wider as Eddard's gaze turned to the distance, plans dancing before him. "Slow down Ned. Did we not just come out of a war? We must see to preparing for winter. We should not think of war again so soon."

"Willem there is a war almost every generation now. The ninepenny wars, this rebellion, the dance before that. We are always preparing for winter and we don't do much else. We must improve ourselves."

"I don't like the thought of constantly preparing for yet another war, but you have proven yourself to be a capable lord. If you say we should do this, then I will follow you."

"Thank you my friend. House Dustin will be rewarded for its part in restoring the power of the North." With that they lapsed into a silence once more, each contemplating the future. Howland and Arthur were the only ones who had heard the conversation, the guards riding behind. Both felt that it was the start of something great. Howland was certain he would have a similar conversation with Ned soon, and he welcomed it. Too long the Starks had maintained the state of affairs, and while they were strong and just, they lacked inventiveness. The North would prosper again soon.

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Catelyn pulle the cloak closer to her body, shivering as she did so. She marveled at how strong the cold was getting. It was ever present, just on the edge of awareness. It creeped forward slowly until suddenly all you could feel was its bite, tearing through you. She snorted. "And this is supposed to be summer." Truthfully she had many doubts about her new life in the North. Yet she remembered her house words. "Family, Duty, Honor." she muttered quietly.

They had entered the North proper some days back, the ruin of the Moat falling behind them. The barren moors were all she saw, no life blooming in this freezing land. She wondered if the land reflected what her life would be like here in the North. A husband she barely knew, and a land which was unknown.

A soft cry interrupted her ruminations. She smiled as she turned her head to where Robb was, making noises even as he slept on the cushion. Her son. That thought alone was enough to keep her going through the long days. If there was one thing she was thankful for in this situation, it was her darling boy. The wheelhouse began to wobble a little, as it often did on the poor roads. Perhaps I shall get lord Stark to make grand Valyrian roads for me." she chuckled a bit.

The door flew open, and Catelyn was thrown from her thoughts. A wide eyed guard stood there, frantically waving her out. "My Lady come with me, and quickly! The scouts just warned us of a bandit attack. We must get you and the young lord to safety!" Catelyn froze for a moment, but then her protectiveness overcame her brief paralysis. Swiftly picking up Robb, she followed the guard outside. The soldiers had made a protective wedge in the direction of the road.

"Come my lady, they will delay the bandits, while we escape." Nodding, Catelyn sat up on the horse behind the guard, and they began to ride away from the wheelhouse. No sooner had they gone ten yards away, did the bandits emerge from the woods. There were quite a few of them, perhaps two score. She hoped her men could prevail, being able to do nothing but watch as they stopped the wave of attackers. They kept riding away over the moors. After they were farther away, the guard slowed the pace a bit. "We should be safe now my lady. They do not have horses... " His reassuring words were cut of by a sudden fountain of crimson sputing from his neck. Gurgling, he fell to the ground, arrow in his throat. The horse slowed to a stop, and Catelyn slid off and desperately began to run, clutching Robb to her chest.

The arrow's origin was revealed when two of the bandits came out from behind a boulder and began to chase her. Wearing a dress and carrying an infant as she was it did not take long for her to falter. She fell painfully, the loose gravel tearing the skin of her hands. The bandits came to a stop in front of her, their blades drawn. "Ain't it lucky he picked us to wait here? We're the ones that get the lady first."

The other one responded with a laugh. "Aye. Now what should we do with a pretty flower like you?"

Catelyn's heart as hammering in her chest. Her guards were back along the road, and the bandits had anticipated that she would try to escape. She raised her hand as they came towards her, futilely hoping to ward off the assault and shield Robb.

The expected blow never came. She only heard a surprised grunt, and then a scream of pain. Cautiously she opened her eyes. In front of her stood a tall man, covered in furs, his foot on one of the men he just killed. He turned to her and offered her a hand. "I'm apologize that our reunion is in such sorry circumstances my lady." Catelyn realized that it was her husband of all people and resisted the urge to laugh hysterically at the situation. Here was her "savage" northern husband saving her like a knight in the mummers tales. "I must be in shock." she thought as she collected herself. She took the offered hand, noting the look of concern on Lord Stark's face. "Meet your son my Lord."

Eddard had bid farewell to Howland at the neck. After much deliberation, he had decided to keep Jon with him, and pass him off as Ser Arthur's son. It was the best option, as the knight was already getting a new identity in the North, and wanted to serve his king. Eddard would think about the thorny issue of the iron throne later. There was still time after all. They had seen the tracks off Catelyn's party and knew they were close to meeting them. Eddard wondered what would happen when he finally met his wife.

Their wedding had been a rushed affair and he had no idea how their marriage would work. His thoughts on his relationship with his wife were put on hold when a scream sounded over the rolling landscape. It was feminine and accompanied by the clashing of steel in the distance. "Ride!" he said abruptly. There was always an increase in bandit attacks when men went to war. They needed to hurry if they wanted to save the poor souls.

As they rode forward, they saw a woman being accosted by to men, with a skirmish going on in the distance. Eddard signaled the others to go ahead, while he and Willem would take care of these two. When he saw the color of the woman's hair, his felt a flash of recognition. The next second, anger roiled in his gut, and he spurred his horse faster. Willem struggled to keep up. The first man had no chance, as Ice swung and cleanly beheaded him. In one decisive motion Eddard dismounted and brought the greatsword around, the tip tearing the other man's chest. Scarlet rivulets flowed freely and the bandit collapsed, the cut proving fatal. He turned to his wife, who had her eyes closed, and was slowly opening them. He extended his hand to her.

Eddard's face softened as he looked at his son for the first time. He gaze shifted from Robb back to his wife. "Perhaps this won't be so terrible." He was completely unaware that Catelyn was thinking the exact same thing. Aloud he said, "Come my Lady, let's get back on the road."

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The bandit leader had been captured in the skirmish. The tully soldiers had sustained few losses as they had held off the bandits quite valiantly. The arrival of Arthur with the crossbowmen had simply sealed their fate.

"It looks like the wheelhouse suffered a bit of damage in the fight My Lady. We'll have it working by tomorrow though." Catelyn sighed as she heard the report from one of the more handy tully guards. "That's alright. I will ride from now on. I do not wish to slow our progress to Winterfell."

"My lady are you sure? It is no trouble to wait for the wheel house to be repaired, and we still have a ways to go." Eddard had said hen informed of Catelyn's decision. Catelyn was sorely wanted to cancel her plan, because the long days on horseback would surely be quiet difficult for her. Yet she did not want any delay in the trip. The bandit attack had shaken her, and she wanted to be behind the walls of a strong keep once more.

"I will ride my Lord, if it's all the same to you." She saw a flash of something on her husband's face, but it disappeared before she could discern its nature. "Very well then. Before we get on the road, let me introduce Ser Caspian. He joined us on the road and has been a great help. And that is his son, Jon." Catelyn nodded to the man while wondering about the exotic name and looked curiously at the boy, who was in the arms of a servant. It was rare for a man to take such responsibility for his child, and she felt her respect for he knight increase. With the introductions out of the way, they set off on the way to Winterfell once more.

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Riverrun was no petty keep, but a great castle in its own right. Its ability to turn into an island made it one of most defensible castles in Westeros. Yet when Catelyn saw Winterfell, she was awed by feeling beyond anything her old home could inspire. She couldn't quite describe it, as the castle was not overly grandiose, but she could feel it. The castle was gigantic, and felt incredibly ancient. Unbidden, the old legends of the North began flitting through her mind. She had been preparing for her betrothal with brandon since she was twelve, and had learned many of them. How Winterfell had been built with help from the Giants, and with special magic imbibed in its walls.

Eddard had taken to riding beside Catelyn in the last days of their journey. They did not speak much, yet grew slightly more comfortable with each other as time passed. He saw winterfell at the same time as Catelyn did and almost dropped his jaw. Instead of seeing his home in the afternoon light, he saw something else entirely. Winterfell was was alive. The walls were teeming with glowing runes, and there seemed to be some sort of barrier around the entirety of the castle. He looked around, but no one else seemed to notice the apparitions dancing around the castle. Slowly they began to fade out of his vision as well, making him wonder if he had truly seen it. "I must find the answer to these constant riddles." However now was not the time.

"My Lady, I present to you Winterfell, seat of the Starks."

"It is quite breathtaking my lord." replied Catelyn

As they entered the ancient fortress Eddard thought about Robb. He had received the news somewhere on the road that Catelyn had given birth to his son, but seeing his son had changed his view. The boy was no longer a far away thing, but a beautiful, precious child who was his to protect. His boy. The cloud of misery that had clung to him since the horrors of the past year lessened greatly. Benjen greeted him inside as he had last time, but with less sorrow in his demeanor. Taking a look around Eddard sighed in relief. He was finally home. After settling everyone in, he began to make his way to the solar. "It's time to get to work." he thought.


	9. Early Days

Eddard smiled as he looked over the latest reports in his solar. "Things are going quite well." he thought. His first priority had been to increase the productivity of his lands. This had been relatively easy to accomplish, as all it took were a few orders to increase production in things that were already being done. It was a simple matter to get trade operating smoothly, because the Starks were so highly regarded in their lands. Any order was followed quickly and honestly. After that had come the real challenge.

"But my Lord this is insanity! Eschewing the entire system of levies in favor of this new concept? It will destroy our coffers!"

Yes, the masterly houses under him had been quite resistant to this change. Yet he had managed to prevail upon them, for his idea for the new military arm of the Starks was no whim or fancy, but a well thought out plan. The number of levies the Starks alone could raise was around seven thousand, 2 thousand of them horse. He could not ask all his major lords to pool their forces into an army of the North. They would fiercely resist. Instead, he would simply reforge his personal forces. They would be capable of projecting his strength to the other lords, and by extension, westeros.

While the men of the North were fierce, they were still levies, and untrained in the arts of war. He had decided that House Stark would have a central standing force of 6000 men, with 2500 horse. This would be no ragtag band of smallfolk, but a deadly professional army. They would be trained to be professional soldiers by the best instructors, like Ser Caspian and others he had called. They would live simply to cut costs. Furthermore, a portion of the trained forces would go to Essos, to work as a sellsword company and send the earnings home to pay for the army. He had managed to reach out to the company of the rose, and they were willing to work with these forces.

"My lord, why would anyone ever join such an army? Most folk expect to be able to go home once the fighting is done. And where will the people for this new army come from?"

These issues were ones he had considered as well. The soldiers, once they completed twenty years in the army, would receive a comfortable retirement in the Winter City that was growing around Winterfell, with special residences built for them. As for the people, were already starting to flood in, once they heard of opportunities to move up in the north. He had sent recruiters everywhere, especially to the slums to king's landing, where many people in search of work were. The poor souls looked for any opportunity to rise above that filth. The new populace of the north was encouraged to adopt the old gods, though not forced. Most honestly did not care who they were told to worship or bow to as long as they had a meal at the end of the day. They also brought many skills with them, allowing Winter town to grow. Many of the young men were funneled into the new army of house Stark. The official purpose of the new force was to scour the North for bandits, but that was only an excuse so as not to draw suspicions.

Aside from the army, he had invested much more into the Northern economy, increasing export of timber and furs to other parts of the world such as Essos. The trade of the North was slowly increasing, and using the revenue from taxes, he could finance the rest of his plans. Since they were paying no taxes to the Iron Throne for at least three years, he had much more freedom to move.

He rose from his seat and went to the window of his solar. The room was quite high in the first keep, providing him a view over Winterfell. He could see that the makeshift town that usually formed outside the walls was becoming more of a permanent one, with sturdier buildings and more people. The only issue now was how to feed those new people come winter. The reach borderline robbed the North every winter when they tried to buy food, so he would have to find some other way for the North to produce. Deciding that it was enough paperwork for that day, he moved to leave the room.

A DIFFERENT EDDARD A DIFFERENT EDDARD

Every so often he would go in disguise amongst the citizens of winter town, or more of a city now, to listen to their thoughts and stories. It helped him understand his people better. Today he chose a tavern which was relatively close to the walls of the castle, and had a good reputation. He sat at a table out of the way and ordered some beer, while listening to the conversations around him. One in particular caught his attention.

"I'm tellin ya Karl, this man has the secret. He could have feasts in winter if he wanted to." The other man snorted and took a swig.

"Bullshit. Ain't no way to have feasts in winter. What does he do, eat the damn snow?"

"He's got some kinda special aurochs, that can survive in the winter."

"And who did you hear this from? Man's fucking insane if he thinks he can have feasts in winter."

"I swear it's true. My cousin lives near his him on the mountains north of the wolfswood. Man keeps to himself, but always seems to have good meat when it's needed."

Eddard leaned in spite of himself, intrigued. "Perhaps I should pay this man a visit." He asked the two men where he might find this man. They were cagey at first, but eventually the sceptical one told him. One they had told him the location and he had made his visit there the next day, with Maester Luwin and a few guards. It was a hard journey that took almost a fortnight, as the man lived in a very remote part of the Northern mountains.

"Absolutely amazing my lord. This long fur on the beast is more than enough to keep it alive in winter. If we breed these cattle, we could have enough food to last through winter easily!" said Luwin. He was examining the animals in the pasture while they waited for the man to return. Finally when the owner came back, he was quite surprised. "Lord Stark, what brings you here to my little home?"

"I hear you have something interesting here my good man. I would like to buy these beasts, and use them to give the North enough food for winter."

"Names Marcus my lord. But how will only 20 or so of them feed the North?"

"I will breed them and gift them to various lords of the North. It will be a great boon to our people."

"Alright then my Lord. I am an old man, so I only request that you leave me a few so I may stay with them here till the day of my death."

"Very well."

At first he had tried to pay the man with dragons, but Marcus had no use for them out in the mountains. Instead he told Eddard that easing other's lives was good enough for him. Still, Eddard promised to send some builders to build him a proper home and a few other things to make Marcus more comfortable. Afterwards Eddard set off towards Winterfell once more, another piece of the puzzle falling into place.

Marcus had also told them that there were rumors of a few herds of these wild in the North, and beyond. A few years ago Marcus had been lucky enough to find a few. Eddard hoped that soon he would be able to feed his people through the coldest of winters. The strange thing was, he could not imagine why these cattle hadn't shown up before. Perhaps the old gods were favoring them, finally making things better for the north.

A DIFFERENT EDDARD A DIFFERENT EDDARD

Catelyn shook her head a bit as her husband rode back into Winterfell with strange long furred aurochs of all was getting stranger these days, with all his plans of improving the North, and building the army and economy. He was like a man possessed, working nonstop. He probably hadn't even noticed Catelyn taking over most of the running of Winterfell with how busy he was. She had begun to manage everything from the servants to the petitioner to the suppliers. She recalled when they had met on the road, and the few days they had spent riding together. It had seemed they were developing a connection, but he had thrown himself into his work as soon as they returned. He barely made time for Robb anymore. At least Robb had a good playmate in Jon, the knight's son. "No more." she thought. "I will confront him about it today."

Her husband was in his solar as usual, looking over the reports with a gleam in his eye. He glanced at her briefly and smiled. "Catelyn, come in. No doubt you've heard about our new livestock! With it Winter will be far easier to survive."

"What's the point of surviving winter when I'm already a ghost?" she said. Eddard looked at her again, but this time his eyes were in the present not his glorious visions of the future.

"What do you mean my lady? Are you not comfortable in Winterfell?" he said. She sighed. Eddard was kind, but could be incredibly dense.  
"No my lord, it is not Winterfell, it is you. It is like I am merely a guest in your castle, for all the time you spend with me. Even though I have taken over the running of your household, I hardly ever speak with you, really speak with you. We cannot continue a marriage like this."

Eddard looked away, unable to hold her gaze. He stared at the fire, as if asking it for answers. He tried to remember the last time he had even spoken more than a few words to his wife. Catelyn saw the shame on his face and knew she had gotten through to him. "I don't ask for much my lord. Just spend some time with me."

Eddard nodded at her. "You are right. I have been remiss in my duties as a husband. Come with me. We shall take a walk through Winterfell." Catelyn smiled. "I would like that my lord."

Over the next few days, Eddard managed to show Catelyn the glass gardens, first keep, and godswood. Catelyn and he had bonded, as they were really the only people of their station in Winterfell. Bejen was gone, Caspian was busy training the troops, and Luwin and Cassel were the only ones that were truly their friends. However on their latest walk through the godswood, a problem had arisen.

"Ned, I am hoping to have a septa come North to educate our children. They must learn as is proper for their station."

"I don't understand Cat. What need have they for a septa? They will be Starks, and Starks follow the old gods. Luwin will teach them about their station and histories."

"What are you talking about? They will be raised with the faith of the seven! I know the old gods are important, but the faith teaches how to live a virtuous life."

"I have read your book cat. That kind of rigidity may work sometimes in the south, but the code of the Old Gods is what is needed in the North. They will not have a septa and that is final."

"Have you no respect for my beliefs my lord?" she said. Her face was a drawn tight into a stern mask, no sign of the beautiful smiled he had come to love. Her addressing him so formally stung more than he expected.

Yet Catelyn had been adamant. Her faith was one point where she would not compromise, as she was raised with strong beliefs. It had created a rift between them.

A DIFFERENT EDDARD A DIFFERENT EDDARD

"My Lord? My Lord?" Luwin sad. Eddard glanced up abruptly, looking at the maester.

"Ah, apologies Maester, I am a bit distracted."

"Quite alright my lord. As I was saying, the herds of cattle have proven easy to domesticate, and the trade is really picking up. Soon, we will need to build those roads for the trade you were talking about." Yet as he talked he could tell that his Lord was once more distracted. He frowned slightly. Though he was a great Lord, Eddard was only one and twenty, a young man. He did not know how to deal with many things.

"My Lord, may I ask if something is the matter? You seem quite troubled."

"It is nothing Luwin. Just a small disagreement with my Lady wife."

"Clearly not my Lord. Most of the household has noticed it by now. You cannot carry on like this. It will encourage rumors."

"Has it become that obvious Luwin?"

"It has My Lord. If I may enquire as to the nature of the dispute?" Eddard sighed, and thought a little. Luwin was a trusted man, and far wiser than he. He was born in the North, but grew in the south. Perhaps he could help him understand how to get through this issue.

"My lady wife and I disagree quite strongly on matters of faith and how to raise our children."

"Ah so that is the trouble my Lord. You must understand that faith is quite different in the south. There it is a more present thing, with rules affecting all aspects. Your faith is more spiritual, allowing each man to seek his own answers from the gods. I do not know what works best, but perhaps these two need not be mutually exclusive."

Eddard began to feel a little hope. Perhaps, if he managed to convince Catelyn, they could compromise on a few things. The children could know the faith of the seven, but would also know the values of the north and the old gods. Though he had personally seen evidence of the old gods, that did not mean the seven were false. If anything, it made it more probable, as he had already been told that many powers existed in this world he was unaware off.

"You are correct Luwin. Perhaps I have been to inflexible about my own convictions. I shall go speak to her as soon as we finish today." Luwin smiled.

"Very good my Lord. Let us return to today's tasks. Oh it appears we will soon have a visitor at Winterfell."

A DIFFERENT EDDARD A DIFFERENT EDDARD

Catelyn was watching the training of the army of Winterfell. The men looked quite ferocious as they drilled various formations together. If this kept up, they would be able to contest fully fledged knights in the battlefield. Ser Caspian had asked her to watch over the training as it boosted morale for the troops. Catelyn admired that man's dedication. He watched over his son as if he were a sworn sword to him. Even now, a servant had the boy on the near the training field, holding him so he could watch his father.

Still, even with the distraction of the hustle and bustle of Winterfell, she could not shake the dullness over everything. Her and Eddard's fight had ended the growing affection between them, and she did not know if she could fix it. Though she was more comfortable there, the godswood still felt strange, like she was not truly a part of it. She looked up, and almost dropped her jaw..

Riding towards her around the courtyard was a very familiar figure. The emblem of the leaping trout was on his armor, though it was the color of obsidian. He stopped near her and dismounted, removing the helm he was wearing.

"Uncle Brynden! How are you here, so far to the north?"

"Well I was going to go to the vale originally, but I figured I would visit you first. You are my darling niece after all."

"It's so good to have a familiar face around here Uncle. Come let me show you to your rooms."

A little while later, they sat in his rooms after he had settled in.

"Cat I wanted to ask you, face to face. Are you happy here?'"

"If you had asked me a week or two ago, I would have said yes without a thought uncle."

"Why, what is the trouble? Is Eddard not good to you?"

"No Uncle he is a very kind man. Yet we have differences now. I feel them insurmountable at times."

"What was the reason for your quarrel?"

"Eddard and I were discussing which faith to raise our children in and he flatly refused to have the seven here. He even rejected my request for a septa to teach them!"

Brynden snorted, the curving of his eyes giving away amusement. "Smart man."  
"Uncle! Not you too. Don't you care about your faith?"

"Cat, I am just as devout to the seven as any other man. That does not mean I respect all the septons and septas who preach for them. "

"What do you mean uncle?"

"Septons and Septas teach a life that cannot always be followed, and sometimes should not be. The seven only care that you are a good person and pray to them. I believe it is men who have made all these restrictive rules. And they themselves are often hypocrites who do not follow what they preach. A septa is not a good person to raise children, especially here in the north. The seven should be taught but perhaps your approach is wrong."

"But Uncle, Septons and Septas teach us values to live our lives by. They are more devout than us all."

"Cat, as they say here in the North, I have seen more winters than you. I know more about the nature of people. You have only seen those in Riverrun or surrounding lands. Trust me when I say your husband has the right of it about the septa. I suspect he has little issue with the seven themselves, just the consequences of following them so rigidly. Now tell me, do you really follow every single edict in that book, or do you adjust as life demands?"

When Catelyn thought about it she did realize that she did not necessarily follow the seven pointed star word for word. She began to see the point. "Thank you so much Uncle. Perhaps there can be a compromise after all."

They chatted a bit more, and during that time Eddard came into the room. "Lord Brynden, I apologize that I could not…" He trailed off as he saw that Catelyn was also in the room.

"It is quite alright Lord Stark. However, i think you and Cat need to have a talk." So saying he left the room.

"I'm sorry about…" They both started at the same time, and laughed. Catelyn smiled and gestured for Eddard to speak. "I'm sorry I was so stubborn about this Cat, but I have seen how restrictive life under the seven can be when I was in the south. The North is a freer place. Perhaps we can raise the children in both faiths, if you can agree to the lack of a septa, or strict adherence to the book."

"I was also quite insistent Ned, and that was wrong of me. I did not attempt to understand your side of things enough. Now that Uncle had cleared some of my misconceptions, I agree with your plan. We will take future challenges as they come."

"Perhaps we can retire to our shared chambers today? I hope we have resolved all the ill feeling between us."

She laughed at that. "Yes Ned. It will take some time,but I have hope once again that we can make this work." Afterwords, they said goodbye to Brynden and retired for the night.

A DIFFERENT EDDARD A DIFFERENT EDDARD

A few weeks later they lay together in their bed, relaxing. Eddard smiled as he thought of the day before. Finally, he and his wife had resolved their differences. For once he had decided to stay in bed, and leave work for a little later. Catelyn had done the same thing. Their contentment was not to last however.

The door opened, and Luwin walked in hurriedly. "Apologies my Lord, but I have an urgent message for you."

"What is it Luwin?"

"I believe it's better that the messenger tell you himself." Another person walked into the room. He had a light stubble, and was tall with broad shoulders. He looked much older than his 18 years. Eddard almost didn't recognize him.

"Benjen?"

"Yes brother. I see married life is treating you well. Hello Catelyn."

"What is this urgent message?" asked Catelyn.

"An army of wildlings has bypassed the wall under a new king. It is time to put that new army of yours to the test Ned?"

"How do you know this? I told you explicitly that you could not join the Night's watch, though I let you travel." Eddard replied.

"There will be time for explanations brother, but first arise and prepare. For war is upon us."


End file.
